Everything Put Together Falls Apart
by BeccaMuse9
Summary: Human AU. Natalya is living with her brother and sister again and helping them with the family business. Oil. But during a party she meets her brother's next investor. An American. AmeBel. Rated T for abuse (physical, drug, and self), language, and adult situations. Based off the Paul Simon song with the same name. I own nothing.
1. Paraphernalia

**(A/N): This is a Human!AU. And I have always loved this song, it's so painful and soft. Absolutely filled with emotion. I wanted to write a really painful fanfiction because I read 'Sleep, Little Bird', a SuFin story. And I cried like a baby. For a least 45 minutes. So I decided to channel it into this. Should be about 7 chapters.**

**[WARNINGS] Ummm... Abuse. Language at some point probably. Drugs, not hardcore though. Maybe some mild 'Adult situations'.**

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_"Paraphernalia… never hides your broken bones."_

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Her breath hitched as she pulled the dress over her head carefully. The silk fell over her pale body, covering all her defects. Flaws. Markings. She used all these words to describe them, but others used different terminology. Bruises. Welts. Scars.

Natalya winced as she laced up the back and more bruises disappeared. Her stockings made the ones on her leg invisible— covered by black nylon. Next came her apron, which she tied gingerly into a bow. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. But that's how it always was.

She brushed her hair, making sure to avoid the knot on the top of her head that had rendered her unconscious. Natalya sighed as she placed her white hair ribbon in her hair to complete the look. It was refreshing to see the one that had never changed.

"Sestra(1)!" Ivan called, just outside her door. It was not a question. It was an order to become decent. She flinched at his voice but quickly smoothed her expression.

"Da, big brother." She spoke.

He entered the room, dressed in a formal suit and already frowning.

"Is everything alright?" Natalya asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. If something went wrong tonight, it would affect all of their lives.

"Nyet." Ivan scowled at her, "I cannot find my flask and I cannot bear tonight without it."

She swallowed, "We will be having an open bar. You can get Wodka there, da?"

Ivan considered her for a moment with narrow eyes before giving her short nod, "Da. I will." He turned to leave and a small sigh escaped her lips, "And Natalya."

"Da?" She noticed the warning in his voice.

"Come down as soon as you are done in here. And _don't_," She shuddered, "make a fool of yourself. These idiots are important."

She nodded. His eyes narrowed and purple rolled off of him waves as his hand moved to his belt.

"Shto(2)?" He asked.

"Da!" She corrected herself, "Of course, big brother. I will not make a fool of myself."

He gave her a curt nod before closing the door behind him. Natalya took one last look at her appearance. It wasn't any better. She still looked like the younger, plainer sister. A child not wanted. Another small sigh escaped her lips but this time it wasn't out of temporary relief. It was resignation. She would go downstairs. She would have a good time. Then she would start it all over again tomorrow.

Natalya looked down at her vanity and deftly opened a pill bottle. She popped three little pills and looked back up at her reflection. She giggled as she stared deeply into her own violet eyes.

"Look at you." She said, changing her voice to her brother's, "You look pathetic." Natalya laughed as she turned around to reached the door, continuing to mock her brother's voice and words, "Weak. Small. Helpless. Filthy. Whorish. Disgusting." She hummed more words as she walked down the hallway to join her brother and sister at the top of the stairs.

She smiled, seeing them all dressed up was nice. Her steps became skips as she reached them but faltered as she felt the pain shooting throughout her body. Her defects. But she took her place on her brother's left, her sister at his right, and looked down the grand staircase at the hundreds of people crowding the room.

"Welcome!" Ivan projected and everyone else fell silent, "My sisters and I are glad to have you here!" He smiled in a friendly way, "Please… Enjoy the party!"

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(1) Sister (Russian)

(2) What? (Russian)

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**(A/N): This is just an intro but if any of you guys out there like it then I can write more quickly. I'm still trying to finish 'Thinking of You'.**


	2. You're on your own

**(A/N): ****This is more like what my chapters are like. The song this story is based off is 'Everything put together fall apart' by Paul Simon. Breathtaking song, I only hope that I do justice to it. And the other song mentioned in this chapter is 'Cheek to Cheek' the Fred Astaire version (it was in the English Patient).**

**Anyway~ You finally get to meet Alfred in this. He's a little OOC, especially if you've read my other AmeBel story, but it works and I'm not changing it.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Ever. I'm completely possessionless.**

**[WARNING] I guess the same? I don't know. It's Alfred and Natalya. They're crazy.**

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"_And I don't know why you'd want to try. It's plain to see you're on your own."_

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The noise was deafening. She couldn't stand it. Natalya smiled, trying to make small talk with everyone. But mostly it consisted of drunken men, free of their wives for once, asking her age.

She gritted her teeth, "Twenty two." Natalya said, trying to be nice. She then had to refuse the drinks and hotel keys they offered her. No matter how many men propositioned her, she had never once taken them up on it. She only belonged to one person.

Her violet eyes scanned the room to find her brother chatting with short Englishman and a taller Asian man. She wracked her mind to think of their names. She had memorized the guest list ten times over. Wang Yao was the Chinese man, but she couldn't think of the Englishman's name. Perhaps they hadn't met.

Her eyes narrowed as her brother laughed at something the Chinese man had said. Her fists balled up and her hand went for her knives strapped to her leg.

"Miss!" A voice called from behind her. Natalya wheeled around to see a man she'd never met before. He was tall, almost as tall as her brother, with combed sandy blonde hair. But a rebellious cowlick ruined his entire adult façade, no matter how pressed his suit was.

"Da?" She asked him, trying to keep her ever present temper in check.

He was looking at his watch, "Could you tell me where…" He trailed off when he looked up at her.

"Where what?" This man was trying her patience and she thought she could hear brother laughing again.

The man's sky blue eyes widened and he cleared his throat, "I-I…" The shock passed quickly and he gave her a bright, show stopping grin, "May I ask who this magnificent vision is?"

She glared at him, resisting the urge to cross her arms. If she did so then it would take her longer to reach her knives and kill this man when he inevitably gave her reason to.

"You may." Natalya said crossly.

His eyebrow quirked up. "I see. Then who might this magnification, _witty_ vision be?"

She scowled at the additionally adjective, "Natalya Arlovskaya, sister of Ivan Braginski."

He smiled and put out his hand, "Alfred F. Jones."

She ignored his hand, "Must you always state your middle initial?"

Alfred chuckled, "Must you always state your nearest male relation?"

Natalya glared at him, recognizing the impasse they were at but still not him, "I'm sorry." She said sweetly, biting the tip of her tongue, "But were you invited here by someone?"

Alfred gave her another Hollywood smile, "Oh, Miss Arlovskaya. Of course I was. But don't blame yourself for not knowing, I'm new here. 'New meat' as I'm sure all the ladies say." He smirked as he gestured down at his body that was concealed by an admittedly fine suit, "None of them would mind taking a whack at this right up in here, I bet."

She wrinkled her nose at the thought of ever seeing the man out of clothing, but she hid her disgust well, "I am glad you could make it, Mr. Jones." This was the third or fourth person that she hadn't been able to identify, and that troubled her, "But if you don't mind, I have to talk with my brother for a moment." She turned to leave.

His hand caught her left wrist and she stiffened at the touch, her right hand already on the hilt of her knife.

"But, Miss Arlovskaya. I _beg _your pardon but you have not answered my question from earlier."

She ground her teeth. Even with her brother in her sights, proper edict insisted that she turn around to face the annoying American yet again.

"But, Mr. Jones," Natalya took a deep breath to keep herself from slitting his throat right then and there, "You have yet to ask the question."

He looked at her with puzzled eyes, running his hands through his blonde hair, "Didn't I?"

She took another deep breath, "Nyet, you did not."

"Oh.." He frowned, "I coulda' swore I did."

Inhale.

"But maybe not…"

Exhale.

He gave her a crooked smile, "My question was have you seen my brother? But…" He looked behind her, "I noticed him a while ago." Alfred waved to a man who looked physically the same as him, but completely different. The man smiled meekly and waved back.

Alfred turned back to her and grinned, "Matt and I are twins. Pretty great, right?" He clucked his tongue, "I'm sure many people thank God for there being two men as handsome as I." His smile fell when he saw her face and his eyebrows knit together with worry, "Somethin' wrong?"

The skin of her palm dug into the hilt of her knife and her voice projected barely contained rage, "When you said I didn't answer your question, you already knew the answer?"

He shrugged, stepping closer to her, "What can I say? I'm a lady's man."

She flinched. He was so close that she could smell him, but she dropped her hand from her knife. This she could deal with. Flirting.

Natalya smiled, thinking of only two things. Cutting his skin and peeling it back slowly and her brother, "Well, I'm glad you have your answer now, but I really must be going."

The live band started playing some kind of older music, a show tune perhaps, that Ivan didn't really care for, but Katya seemed to love, and Alfred's eyes lit up.

"I _love_ this song!" He jumped up and down excitedly and she decided that he really was just a child in an adult's clothing. He looked around at the couples dancing to the song on the dance floor that seemed to have formed around them.

"Quickly!" Alfred grabbed her hand, "I can't dance by myself."

Her eyes widened but before she could react further, he had his arm around her waist and her arm was on his shoulder. Their hands extended out as Alfred swayed to the music. Her hand slipped down from his shoulder for a moment to adjust her skirt before returning.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" She hissed in a low voice.

He grinned down at her, "Dancing! Don't you have dancing in your country?"

She scowled.

Alfred chuckled, singing along with the song in a strong but quiet voice, _"Dance with me… I want my arm about you; my charm about you will carry me through to Heaven. I'm in Heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak."_ He looked down into her stunning violet eyes, his grin turning into a small, more sincere smile. "_And I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're off together dancing cheek to chee_—"

As he pulled her in closer by her waist he felt something sharp and pointy against his neck.

"If try that again you _will_ regret it." Natalya hissed through a fake smile. The knife she had grabbed when she'd adjusted her skirt was in the hand that rested on his shoulder. She pressed the blade delicately against his throat.

His eyes widened, "God, you are so sexy when you're pissed."

Her nostrils flared and she was seconds from staining her knife with the red blood it always craved, when her brother caught her eye. Ivan smiled and waved briefly before returning to his conversation with her older sister Katya.

Natalya ground her teeth at the thought of not being with him at that very moment. She didn't notice a set of kind, adoring eyes on her.

"Oh.." Alfred gave her a slightly disappointed smile, "I see." He looked back at the man watching them, "I can tell he likes you too."

Her eyes widened, "R-Really?"

Alfred nodded, "Yeah! Sure. And he's cute." He shrugged with mild disinterest, "In a kind of sort of scrawny way."

Natalya was about to insult every inch of Alfred's being for calling Ivan 'scrawny' until she noticed the man staring at her.

"Him?!" She asked in disbelief, "That's just Toris." They'd known each other all their life, but they were hardly even friends. Just people that knew each other.

Alfred smiled at her indignation, "Yes 'him'!" A sparkle appeared in the American's eye, "Hey! Do you know what'll really get his blood going?!" He dipped her down unexpectedly and whispered in her ear, "Seeing you dancing with another man."

Natalya gasped in pain when she was tilted back. The way her muscles pulled and her skin rubbed against her dress with excruciating. Alfred smirked until her got a good look at her face.

"Miss Arlovskaya?" He asked as she winced again, "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, "I am fine." Alfred allowed her up and when she got back on her feet steadily she caught him looking down her dress. A million biting remarks were on the tip of her tongue but as she looked down at her own chest as well, they disappeared.

It was lower cut than most of the dresses she usually wore. The bruised and battered skin was revealed when the fabric shifted just a little.

Alfred swallowed and forced his eyes up to hers, repeating his question, "Are you okay?" His hands pressed against her back protectively but she didn't move away until a voice called to her.

"Natalya!" Ivan spoke, his voice cutting through all the chatter and music, "Come join me."

"I'll be here." Alfred said. She nodded, not looking away from Alfred's sky blue eyes until she heard her brother call her again.

"Natalya." This was low and dangerous. Ivan _never _asked twice.

Her eyes widened, "Da! I'm coming!" She put her knife back in its sheath quickly and pulled away from Alfred. He didn't resist. He only asked her one question.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked for a third time, never looking away from her.

Natalya hesitated before shaking her head, "Nyet." Then she hurried to her brother. Her love. Her only. Her guardian. Those were the words she used for him. Others would use different ones. Abuser. Rapist. Jailer.

Ivan's smile greeted her as she walked up to him, careful not to aggravate the defects littering her body.

"Sestra." He said, "I want you to meet this young man." He gestured to the Englishman that he'd been talking with earlier.

"Arthur Kirkland." Arthur extended his hand her, "Charmed."

She smiled and played the sweet younger sister her brother wanted her to play. Her voice hiked up about half an octave as she took his hand and he kissed it.

"Natalya Arlovskaya." Her eyes moved from the Englishman to her brother, excepting an answer.

Ivan nodded with a smile, "Mr. Kirkland is going to be helping us with our next business venture."

Her eyebrows shot up for a split second before she realized her mistake. A British Oil Tycoon.

Arthur nodded at her as though reading her mind and reintroduced himself, "Arthur Kirkland, CEO of British Petroleum."

She blinked, "Of _course_! Mr. Kirkland, it's an honor."

"The honor is all mine, Miss Arlovskaya ." He smiled at her, revealing a signature crooked smile, and looked behind her, "And I see you've already met my business associate."

Natalya turned around, trying to think of what other BP representative she might have met that night. She came face to face with those blue eyes again.

"Miss Arlovskaya." Alfred bowed, "It's nice to see you off the dance floor."

Ivan's voice wafted in from behind her, "Ahh… You danced with my little sister, Da?"

Alfred nodded, dialing back his charming smile for a moment, "Yes. I did. And if I may," His eyes locked with Natalya's violet shocked and slightly wide eyes, "She is a wonderful dancer."

Natalya's head whipped around to look at her brother again when she didn't hear a response. Ivan smiled and nodded, but behind his dark purple eyes there was an unrequited rage. This wasn't the last she would be hearing about this.

"But," Alfred began, a cocky smirk slipping across his face, "We were not quite done with our dance." He bowed to Natalya and extended his hand, "Miss Arlovskaya, if I may?"

Her terrified gaze shifted to her brother. Ivan didn't look at her directly, but he gave the tiniest nod before striking up conversation with Mr. Kirkland again.

"You may." She said shakily.

He smiled as he led her out onto the dance floor again.

"Did you think about what I said?" Alfred asked once they had found a comfortable rhythm.

"You talk quick a bit, Mr. Jones." Natalya no longer made an effort to keep her accent light. She knew that it was difficult to understand her through the Russia accent, but he didn't seem to mind, "I would have no idea what you might be referring to."

He chuckled, "Has anyone ever told you that you have quite a cold personality?"

"Da. Indeed they have." Natalya stepped into his arms and he spun her out. When he spun her back in, careful to catch her gently as to not her hurt her again, he smiled down at her.

"They're wrong, aren't they?"

Natalya glared up at him, "Have you not already formed an opinion of me yourself?" She stepped back into their two-step rhythm, "I've rejected your advances, while you insist another man has feelings for me, and held a knife to your throat. What do _you _think, Mr. Jones?"

He smirked, "Alfred, please. I've already seen down your dress, I think that's familiar enough for first names, Miss Arlovskaya."

She stiffened in his arms and met his eyes again. All the joy had disappeared from his blue ones and he swallowed.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." She whispered, "I love my big brother very much."

His eyes widened and his gaze lifted to find Ivan amongst the crowd.

"Don't look." Natalya snapped.

Alfred nodded and he returned to her, pulling her just a little closer. She glared at him until he loosened his grip on her waist.

"Him? What did he do?"

"Nyet. Nothing." Natalya didn't look away.

Alfred swallowed again, visibly shaken, "Are you being hurt?"

She sneered at him, "How is that your concern? How old are you?"

He straightened up to his full height, "Twenty one."

"Still a child." She chuckled.

His eyes narrowed, "How old are _you_?"

Natalya grinned, "Never. Ever. Ask a lady's age. Haven't they taught you that yet in primary school?"

He gritted his teeth, "I was only asking! I just wanted to help."

Her grin fell. "What do think you are doing? Do you think you're a hero?" She hissed.

Alfred looked back at her with a set jaw.

"Nyet." Natalya lowered her voice, "Nothing can be done. And certainly nothing by you. So why don't you just get back on your plane tomorrow, fly back to ignorant little America, and leave me alone?!"

He took a few steps to the right, leading her as they spun in a circle before continuing to dance. He didn't say a word. Alfred just looked at her with burning blue eyes.

Natalya swallowed, "I love my big brother very much."

Silence.

"He's always been very kind to me and my sister."

Nothing.

She was beginning to get uncomfortable with his silence as they danced, "He really is, Mr. Jones."

"Alfred." He spoke finally, "Call me Alfred."

She nodded, biting her lip, "He is a kind man, Al-Alfred."

"He.." Alfred began, "He doesn't seem so kind."

His blue eyes drifted back to her brother, who was directly behind her now and in his line of sight. Alfred's frown deepened as he watched Ivan. Natalya had no idea what he could have seen her big brother doing. To everyone he was nice and affectionate toward his family. The perfect man. Natalya knew him better than that, but no one else should be able to see through Ivan's guise.

"And what would make you say such a thing?"

He raised his eyebrow and looked back down at her, "Well… He hasn't looked over here once."

Natalya stiffened and resisted the urge to whip her head around and looked at him herself, "H-He hasn't?"

Alfred shook his head, "Not even once. Which means," He spun her out and then back in as the song's rhythm insisted, "That he is either is trying _very_ hard to not look over here."

They switched hands and started dancing the other way, "Or… He honestly doesn't care that his little sister is dancing with a strange man."

Natalya glared up at him, "My brother loves me."

Alfred ignored her, "But in my opinion." He craned his neck to look at Ivan again, "The latter is far more likely." His blue eyes locked on her violet eyes, "He doesn't care about you at all."

She was reaching for her knife again. How dare he?! Her brother loved her; he loved her more than life itself.

"Which begs the question…" Alfred's hand traveled from her waist up to her chest and pulled down the fabric just enough to reveal a nasty black and blue bruise, "Who are you hiding these from?"

Her knife was at his throat in a second.

"Get your hand off of me." She hissed in a low voice, applying pressure to the razor sharp blade so that it almost sliced through his skin.

Alfred lowered his hand, a scowl forming on his face, "Who _are_ you hiding them from?"

"No one." Natalya spoke through gritted teeth, "There is nothing to hide."

His friendly blue eyes turned cold, "Not your brother. Not your sister. No one. You're all alone." He leaned in, "You don't need to hide them, because no one cares."

Angry tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked to be rid of them. She opened her mouth to respond only to find nothing to say. Her knife was completely forgotten. The song ended and Alfred stepped away, bowing to her. His eyes caught hers and he smirked.

"It's not often that you are able to render a lady speechless." He mused softly, "Perhaps you would do better to be a more gracious host. That would provide your guest with plenty of conversation." Alfred turned and left, leaving Natalya alone in the center of the dance floor and completely broken.

Her breathing quickened, "Arlovskaya. All of them."

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**(A/N): I hope you guys like this! Tell me if you do and I'll get started on chapter 3. **


	3. Watch what you're doing

**(A/N): I'm back! I've been really busy and haven't had much time to write or do anything else... But I just finished editing this chapter.**

**Warnings: I'm tired of doing these... Most of my stories are dark and have an emotional element attached to them. They take a lot of twists and turns. And even though I will /never ever/ change my writing style, I am truly sorry if people are offended by it.**

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"_Oooh. I ain't blind, no. Some folks are crazy, others walk that borderline. Watch what you're doing."_

**X~X~X**

Natalya returned to her brother a short while later, still shaken. Ivan didn't look at her, but she _needed _to get his attention.

"Ivan." She whispered.

His shoulders moved just a tiny bit, but enough for her to know that he'd heard her. He was conversing with a Swiss banker named Basch Zwingli and a rich Hungarian heiress known as Elizabeta Héderváry. His smile never wavered even as Natalya drew closer.

"Big brother?" She whispered again.

Still no response except to laugh at a dry joke Mr. Zwingli had butchered in retelling.

"Vanya." Natalya spoke louder.

His head turned and angry violet eyes met hers, "Natalya. As you can see, I am in the middle of a conversation."

"But I need…" Natalya started before she was cut off by Elizabeta.

The lady chuckled, "Clearly she did not understand the command." The heiress drew closer to Natalya, "But when you're that gorgeous, do you really have to know anything?"

Her green eyes bored into Natalya's, "How old are you, sweetheart?"

"My sister is old enough to know her place." Ivan said hastily, "I would have a word with her." He tugged Natalya's hand before shooting a quick look behind him at his guests, "I'll only be a minute."

Natalya's heart sped up when Ivan grabbed her hand and pulled her to a more secluded area.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Ivan hissed at her, his eyes burning with rage.

She swallowed, "Big brother… Do you love me?"

"Shto?!" He shook his head, "I don't have time for this."

"Please." Natalya was close to tears and she grabbed his wrist to keep him from leaving, "That American… On the dance floor. He said some things to me that I—"

"Natalya!" Ivan hissed, "Did you say something to upset the American?"

She stopped, "I-I…"

His nostrils flared, "Did you make a fool of yourself, Sestra?"

Natalya's eyes widened, "N-Nyet.. I-I.. No, big brother."

He glared at her a moment longer before shaking off her grip, "If I should hear otherwise I will be very upset."

"Da." She nodded, "I understand." Damage control.

Ivan turned sharply on his heel and left her behind. Damage control. Natalya took a deep breath. Her feelings meant nothing now, if Mr. Jones had somehow been offended and was to tell Mr. Kirkland of the offense, their deal could fall through. She swallowed. She would _not_ be the reason for another one of her brother's deals fell through.

Natalya looked around. She was near a table that she recognized to be an old family heirloom. Her finger's caressed the wood and the feeling of their collective family history gave her strength. It reminded her of the old days; days when she and her brother and sister would play. Days before she was sent away.

She no longer shared the Braginski name and it tore her apart every day. She had been a troubled child. She'd been sent to many doctors and they had all labeled her the same thing: 'Incontinent, Unfixable, Crazy.' She'd been sent away, given the last name of all the other children in the Russian mental institution in order to spare her family from more shame, and forgotten.

It was Ivan that had finally taken her back in. She was sixteen and it had been almost nine years since she had seen him. He informed her that their parents were gone. Family was all they had now. He had given her back her own room, her own clothes, her own food. Everything. Except the use of her old last name. No. Braginski no longer belonged to her.

Her name was Arlovskaya.

Natalya bit her lip as she looked around the party, trying to focus on her task. For her brother. She had to find the American and charm him, make sure nothing would impede their business. Business was the Braginski way.

There was only one thing left to do.

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for the American that had pissed her off so much. He was not too far away, animatedly chatting with Toris. Her eyes narrowed. She walked to him quickly.

"Excuse me, Toris?" Natalya smiled sweetly. Toris's eyes widened when she addressed him.

"Yes, Natalya?" His voice was breathless and his conversation with Alfred was already forgotten.

She batted her eyelashes a little and pouted, "It seems Ravis is causing a bit of a scene over there." She gestured vaguely to where she thought she might have seen the cowering young man last, "Do you think that you could go help him?"

Toris grinned and nodded eagerly, "Of course, Natalya. Anything for you!" He skipped away, almost spilling his drink.

Natalya smiled after him. It would be a shame when he stopped listening to every word she said, he could be quite useful.

"Does he know that you were lying through your teeth?"

She turned around to meet Alfred's scowling face, "Nyet. I was not."

He raised his eyebrow, "I'm surprised to see you still here. I thought you would have gone, or at least gone to extreme lengths not to see me again." His expression was blank but his eyes held shame.

She shook her head, "Of course not, Mr. Jones." She smiled sweetly, letting him relax, "Has your evening been well?"

Alfred swallowed, "Yes, Miss Arlovskaya. I've had some interesting conversations."

Her eyebrow raised involuntarily, "Oh? Are you referring to Toris?"

"Yes. And I see you are on first name basis with him?"

Natalya did her best not to glare, "What of it?"

Alfred allowing himself to smirk, "He likes you. I know he does." He ignored her silence, "He calls you Natalya."

"Da. He does." Her eyes narrowed, "But I assure you that my relationship with Toris is strictly platonic."

He chuckled, "Poor man. Imagine being friendzoned by _you_." Alfred stopped laughing and his honest blue eyes bored into hers, "If he is not your boyfriend… Then may _I_ call you 'Natalya'?"

She bit her tongue, trying to keep from insulting him the most vulgar way her knew how. This was for her brother.

When Alfred looked into her eyes, she saw glint of hope. Hope was useful. Hope she could exploit.

"Mr. Jones, if you recall our conversation about first names was cut short by my brother." Natalya pouted as though she was upset by the interruption, "We were just getting to know each other."

A smile pulled at his lips, "Would you like to continue?"

She nodded slowly, a smirk on her face, and drew closer.

He let some of his cockiness return, "On the dance floor?"

Natalya shook her head, "How about some place a little more private?" She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Alfred's blue eyes widened and he swallowed, "Yes!" He cleared his throat, "I mean… Sure?"

She chuckled. This would be so easy. She took his hand and led him back into an emptier part of her house. Alfred grinned giddily as he stumbled after her.

"So… How's your night been?" He asked nervously, "Was it good? Mine's been good. I had some of the mini burgers that they were passing around. They were a little small, but they were good. I-I.. You know I didn't mean what I said earlier."

Natalya stopped and Alfred almost fell into her, "What?!"

His eyes widened, "I… What I said. That was mean. I was just upset because…" He frowned, "That's not important. I'm sorry. I'm sure a lot of people care about you, Natalya."

Her grip on his hand tightened with shock. No one had ever apologized to her. Not when they said something like that. People meant what they said. If they say that they don't, they're lying. They still believe their words to be true, they only regret saying them.

But when she heard Alfred talk, it seemed like he meant it. And that upset her. She covered her distress with a scowl.

"I do not believe I consented to you calling me that, Mr. Jones."

He nodded, "'Alfred' at least?"

Natalya looked around, trying to change the subject, when she found them totally alone. They were in a corridor to the back of the main hall where everybody was. Not too far away, but no one would come this way. Perfect.

A smirk slid onto her lips, "But 'Mr. Jones' is so much sexier." She purred.

His eyes widened and he spluttered, "Oh…! Well you can c-call me that if ya want!"

Natalya shook her head. This guy pretended to be a lady killer, but he was just a normal guy. She backed him up against a wall.

"Good. I like that, Mr. Jones."

A smile played across his face, "I'm glad."

She blinked. He said the oddest things. "But do you know what I would like even more than that..?" Her hands trailed up his chest and settled on his tie.

Alfred swallowed, "Wh-what would that be?"

Natalya didn't look up. She pulled his tie out and caressed it, tugging on it lightly, "I'm not sure." She looked up quickly, her violet eyes flashing, "Do _you_ know what I want?"

His blue eyes sparkled, "Maybe…"

She smiled and one of her hands came up to brush away the golden hair that was in his face, taking a step closer. Her hand traveled down his face. Her finger tips trailed along his cheek, leaving a blush in its wake.

God. When this was over her brother owed her some kind of award for acting. Maybe an Oscar. That was a thing, right?

Natalya looked up at him. He was absolute putty in her hands.

"Do you remember earlier?" She asked, going back to playing with his tie, "When you said those 'mean things'?"

Alfred nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he got hot around the collar.

"Well…" Natalya pouted, "I said some 'mean things' too. I feel _really_ bad about it. Would you forgive me?"

Alfred nodded quickly, "Of course. I'll forgive you." He repeated her words exactly. Natalya suppressed a laugh. It was like hypnotism.

"And…" She cooed, "You'd never tell anyone that I was mean to you…" Natalya looked up at him, "Would you?"

His eyes flew up to meet hers. They'd been staring at her chest. She smirked.

"Of c-course not! I'd never tell anyone." He stammered, his hand moving up to touch her fingers that were still stroking his tie.

Natalya smiled up at him, "Good. Because if you ever did, I'd be in—"

In a spilt second Alfred had flipped her around and pinned her to the wall. Natalya shrieked and struggled. But his hand held her wrists fast against the wall over her head. He smiled down at her, not in the goofy way he had been, but in the cunning way that seemed almost more natural.

"In trouble?" He finished, "Yes. If I informed Arthur about what you said, the deal might fall through."

Natalya's eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"But you underestimate me, Natalya. I am a business man and I would never do anything to jeopardize this deal." His eyes narrowed, "Even if it was to get back at a girl would spat in my face when all I tried to do was help."

Natalya's nostrils flared, "_Don't_ call me Natalya. And I already told you, there is nothing to help. I am fine. Excellent in fact, because after tonight I will never have to lay my eyes on _you_ again!"

He scowled, "I wish I could tell you the feeling is mutual." Alfred's free hand, the one that wasn't holding her hands down, reached up to tug at the fabric of her dress.

She snarled and started struggling again, "What the hell do you think you are doing?!"

"Such words from a lady." Alfred rolled his eyes, "Oh please. You thought I'd let you 'charm' me that easily? I'm not blind; I knew what you were doing. No. I had a reason." He brushed away the silk to see the same black bruise he'd seen earlier. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied it closely.

"Where did you get this?" He asked.

Her eyes widened, "Don't."

Alfred's eyes softened, "Don't what?"

Natalya closed her eyes and tried to free herself again, "Stop. Please let me go."

His grip on her hands tightened, but not out of cruelty. He peered into her face, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, "Please, Mr. Jones. This isn't good for me."

"Alfred."

Natalya swallowed, taking slow deep breaths, "Please?"

"No," Alfred looked at her with curious eyes.

She ground her teeth, "Let. Me. Go."

He shook his head, "No. Tell me what's wrong."

Natalya's anger grew, "Stop this. You don't know what you are talking about."

"I know that you are the saddest person I've ever met." His worry was genuine, "I've never seen anyone look so perpetually upset." Alfred stepped closer to her and lifted her chin to look at him.

"What's wrong?" He whispered.

Natalya felt something inside her snap. She head butted Alfred and shook free of his grasp. She torn down the hall and ran. She ran so far. Out of the house. Across town. Along the fields of Russia, covered in a dense snow. She never stopped running. The voice inside her head kept calling to her.

"_Natalya?! Miss __Arlovskaya?! Are you alright? What's wrong?! Natalya!"_

Alfred called to her, shaking her shoulders. Natalya had collapsed after wriggling out of his hands. She rocked herself back and forth, head between her knees, and muttered to herself in Russian.

He swallowed and touched her shoulder. She didn't react at all. She just kept rocking.

"Natalya?" He asked, kneeling down, "What wrong?"

Her head shot up and her wild violet eyes stared past him, "Arlovskaya." She whispered, "We're all named Arlovskaya."

Alfred was speechless as she continued mumbling.

"Rooms. Rooms with the lightening. Rooms with the water. Rooms with the pills. Rooms with the needles. Rooms with the ropes. Rooms with the people." Natalya glanced up and Alfred thought that she might have seen him, "Rooms with the dark. Dark rooms. You stay there if you don't take your needles."

Alfred's eyes widened. His throat was dry, "Natalya… I-I.."

"I'll take it from here."

Alfred's head shot up. Ivan towered over him, his signature smile no longer on his face.

"Of… Of course." Alfred stood up and watched as Ivan picked up his sister. She relaxed in his arms and went limp.

Ivan turned his dark purple eyes on him, so much unlike Natalya's, and cleared his throat, "I'm sure I can trust you not to mention my little sister's mental status to anyone?"

Alfred nodded slowly, "Yes. I won't tell anyone."

Ivan nodded curtly and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Alfred cried, unable to tear his eyes away from Natalya's face, "Will she be alright?"

Ivan's dark face remained up changed, "Return to the party, Mr. Jones. I believe Mr. Kirkland is looking for you."

Alfred nodded in defeat, "Yeah.." He turned on his heel and returned to the party. Maybe there would be more mini hamburgers.

Ivan cradled Natalya in his arms and walked her up a back staircase and up to her room. His jaw was hard as he lay her down on her on bed.

"Katya." He called, his voice filled with rage.

Katya appeared next to him, having walked behind him with wide curious eyes, "Da, brat(1)?"

"I do not wish to see my little sister naked right now." His violet eyes flashed, "Undress her and get her to bed. Then come back down. I must return to the party."

"Da, brat." She nodded.

Ivan looked down at Natalya and whispered, "You made a fool of yourself. Of all of us. _Watch what you're doing_." He turned on his heel and left as Katya approached her.

The eldest of the three smiled as she slipped off Natalya shoes and stockings. Then, sitting down on the bed, Katya lifted her sister's torso up off the bed and leaned her against her chest. She untied her apron and unzipped the dress that had been picked out carefully for that night.

Katya took the garments, folded over her arm carefully, and hung them up in the closet. She returned to pull the sheets over Natalya, who still trembling with words on her lips. Katya stopped as she looked down at her sister who was only in her slip. The black and blue and yellow bruises glared up at her on the pale body they had been inflicted on. These were accented by deep scars on her sister's arm.

Katya sighed and dropped the covers over the troubled woman, "When will you learn, sestra?" Katya shook her head and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

In seconds she was gone, back to the party, leaving Natalya by herself. Natalya sat up in bed. Her breath was ragged and her vision fuzzy. But she was there.

Angry tears stung her eyes. A fool. Watch what you're doing. The tears that rolled down her cheeks were no longer angry. She was sad. She'd hurt her brother, her family tonight. The Braginski family. She didn't deserve that name. Maybe that's why her brother hadn't given it back to her. He must have known that she'd be a disappointment. Even now.

Natalya shook her head, trying to stop all of her thoughts. She didn't want to think about tonight. The American. Her brother. Their deal with BP. She just wanted to sleep. Maybe she would sleep forever and never have to wake up to these problems.

A small smile slipped onto her face at the thought. Natalya slid out of bed and glided over to her dresser. She picked up a pill bottle and, popping the top easily, she dry swallowed two large pills. She sighed as she walked back over to her bed.

Sleep. Maybe she wouldn't even dream.

* * *

(1) Brother (Russian)

* * *

**(A/N): I'll try to get the next one out as soon as possible, but I'm also working on another story that I just want to be done with. :/**


	4. Ups and Downs

**(A/N): Thank you guys for reading this! I really like writing it! Sorry for the gloomy Author's Note before, just busy and very little sleep. Not a good combo.**

**[WARNING]: Ummm... Drugs? Language. Hints of sex. And... Well, Francis is in this one, so... Warnings for just flat out vulgarity? But I promise nothing /too/ bad.**

* * *

"_Taking downs to get off to sleep and ups to start you on your way. After a while they'll change your style. I see it happening every day."_

* * *

_A man smiled down at her, "__Arlovskaya. We are ready for you in the room."_

_Her violet eyes were wide, "Which Arlovskaya? Which room?"_

_The man's smile tightened, "You, little girl. Number 43. And you need room number 5."_

_Natalya swallowed. The rooms were numbered, that's all they were known as. Room 1 was where the boys slept. Room 2 was where the girl slept. Room 3 was where they were taken when they were hurt and a nice lady would treat their wounds. Room 4 was where they fed them. Room 6 was where the pills were taken. Room 7 was needles were stabbed into them, and then there was only darkness. There were dozens of other rooms, numbered just the same; although she had no idea was inside them._

_But Natalya had never been into room 5. She'd heard talk of it though. Lightening. Burns. Shocks. But that couldn't be true. Lightening wasn't inside._

_She nodded to the man. He took her hand and led her down a long hallway. A stark black 5 stood out on the white door that she was ushered into. Inside the room was dark. A long table with straps attached to it caught her eye._

_The man behind her spoke softly, but not reassuringly, "Lie down, Arlovskaya. Your treatment will begin shortly."_

_Natalya walked to the table and laid down on it uncertainly. Out of nowhere two women strapped her down quickly. One strap across her leg, one across her arms and torso, and one across her fore head to keep her head still. She cried out, but the man's head appeared in her line of sight._

"_Do you know why you're here?"_

_Natalya was crying, "Because my Mama and Papa sent me here!"_

_The doctor shook his head, "You don't have a Mama and Papa anymore. You belong here. Tell me why."_

"_Because of Alfred!" She screamed. Lightening. Lightening couldn't be inside._

Natalya sat up in bed with tears running down her face. She couldn't breathe. Her violet eyes were clouded with tears yet again. Every night. The same dream, but they were always different. The lightening, the sting of electricity _could_ be inside.

With a shaky breath she looked around her room. Last night flooded into her memory like a whirlwind of pain and shame. Natalya closed her eyes. Sleep. Sleep again. Please… But she could see the light that shone in through her open window even with her eyes closed.

"Time to get up." She whispered to herself. Her feet hit the floor and she walked soundlessly to her dresser. Her white slip was sheer and black and blue skin shone through the silk. Dark circles under her eyes were the evidence of yet another sleepless night.

Natalya opened her eyes wide and leaned forward so she could look at them. Bloodshot. She stood there for minutes without moving a muscle. Nothing. Couldn't she just sleep and never wake up?

The bottle of pills was lying on her dresser. A relieved smile spread over her lips as Natalya reached for it. Three little pills were swallowed and she looked back up at herself.

"Today…" She spoke quietly, "Today is when you beg for forgiveness."

The Natalya in the mirror stared back at her. Giggles bubbled up on her lips.

"Do you think Vanya will beat me?" She asked the woman.

Mirror Natalya shrugged, _"Maybe. You did ruin his night."_

Natalya frowned, "Nyet. I did not. Everything went well. Mr. Jones has forgiven me and he will not hold our feelings toward one another against my brother."

Mirror Natalya laughed, _"Say his name."_

She swallowed, "Mr. Jones."

"_Natalya…"_ The mirror image raised her eyebrow, _"You know he doesn't like it when you use his second name."_

Natalya closed her eyes, "….. Al-Alfred…"

She heard a laugh, _"See? Now don't you feel better? Alfred. Your hero."_

Her eyes shot open and she glared at her reflection, "Shut up!" Natalya threw a sheet over the mirror like she did every morning and tried to slow her breathing. Calm. Relax.

"Heroes do not exist." She muttered to herself, "Alfred does not exist."

A giggle erupted in the back of her throat as she felt the pills start to take effect. Natalya ripped the sheet off the mirror and saw only her smiling reflection looking back at her.

"Today… Today is going to be a good day." She sang and started brushing her hair. Getting ready was always an affair and makeup always took the longest. It wasn't for her face; it was to cover all of her defects. Nobody wanted to see them.

After she had tied the ribbon on her usual apron, Natalya took a breath. Get up. Go out. Face the day. She stared into her eyes, trying to find some sort of wisdom there. But they were blank and cold. Like her.

Natalya exited her room, still smiling. Day. A brand new day. She skipped down the grand staircase quickly and headed off to the kitchen. To her surprise, the room was not empty.

"Bonjour." A Frenchman nodded to her, sipping at his tea. The Englishman sitting at the table with him looked up.

"Cheerio." Arthur smiled at her, dunking a scone in his tea.

Natalya stopped short, her mind going blank.

"Oh, Francis…" Arthur looked at his associate, "We seem to have frightened the poor child."

The man, presumably Francis, nodded, "It would appear that way. I'll bet she's lovely when she's not terrified of the two men sitting at her kitchen table."

"Yes, she is." Arthur took another sip of tea, "I had to pleasure of meeting her last night."

Francis glared at him, "You did not share it? What if I had never met this young lady?"

Arthur shrugged, "You were busy trying to introduce Matthew to the other Russian girl."

"Ahhh… Oui. Katya." Francis nodded, "_That_ was a pleasure. Have you seen her? She'd make a good wet nurse."

Natalya's cheeks were burning. They were talking about her sister, of course. Arthur looked up her with sympathy.

"Francis, be kind. You're making the girl feel inferior." He nodded at Natalya's noticeably smaller chest.

Francis shrugged, "She'll do fine. She's got a pretty enough face. Besides…" He nudged Arthur in the ribs, "Weren't you trying to set up her up with Alfred?"

"Oh!" Arthur scoffed at him with mock indignation, "Sir! I would _never_ set an associate up with another associate's sister."

Francis laughed, "That's _exactly_ would you did. And what I did, though I don't think mine took considering the fact that Matthew slept alone last night. Did yours?"

Arthur frowned, "I'm not sure." He looked up and addressed Natalya for the first time in minutes, "Darling, what did you think of Alfred?"

Natalya opened her mouth.

"What he means by that is 'did you sleep with him', cheri?" Francis helped.

She raised her eyebrow.

"Oh poor dear." Arthur fretted over her, "She can't remember. Don't worry, pet. It happens to the best of us."

Francis rolled his eyes, "It happens to _you_. Because you can't hold your alcohol. Now, cheri. Did you wake up with Alfred in your bed?"

"That _also_ happens to the best of us." Arthur laughed.

"Uhhh…" Natalya was speechless. These men were insane, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland and…" She trailed off, expecting a name.

"Bonnefoy." The Frenchman stood, "Francis Bonnefoy." He took her hand and kissed it before she could even think about protesting, "Enchanté, Mademoiselle. I have not had the pleasure." He shot a sidelong glance at Arthur who was munching on his scone.

She nodded, "Natalya Arlovskaya, sister of Ivan Braginski." She curtsied in an awkward way to keep from straining her muscles too much. Her defects always hurt most in the morning.

"And I assure you two," She tried to smile but the thought was repulsive, "That I did not sleep with Mr. Jones."

"Yet." Francis muttered.

Natalya shot him a scowl before Arthur cut in.

"You know," He chuckled, "We'll be working together quite closely. I'm sure he wouldn't mind it if you called him Alfred. You may call me Arthur too."

"And you may call me 'The Love Machine'." Francis chimed in.

Natalya sighed, "Thank you, Arthur. _Francis_. But I'd really rather call him Mr. Jones."

Arthur and Francis exchanged looks and the Frenchman smirked, "Oh, cheri. Never get involved with a business partner." He winked.

Her sneer didn't faze them in the least, "I am not involved with him!"

Arthur laughed as Francis continued, "No… No, I'm sure. Did he make you call him 'Mr. Jones' in between the sheets too? Because that's kind of hot."

Arthur caught his breath, red in the face from laughing, "Oh, I quite like 'Alfred'. Or… What did he name the little guy?"

"'The Hammer'."

"Ahh… Yes." Arthur looked up, "Did you meet 'The Hammer', pet?"

Natalya was blushing furiously. This had never happened to her before. What was wrong with them?! Sex wasn't something to joke about!

She took a deep breath before screaming, "ALFRED AND I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING—"

"Hey!" The American in question skipped into the room, "I heard my name. What were you guys…?" He trailed off when he saw Natalya standing there. He stopped short.

"Miss Arlovskaya." His eyebrows shot up.

"Mr. Jones." Her jaw was hard as she looked at him. His hair was uncombed and the t-shirt he wore with a pair of loose fitting jeans was a much better look for him. He looked like a real person instead of just a slimy weasel. She raised her eyebrow at the pair of glasses perched on his nose, but didn't say anything.

He cleared his throat, "Did these two jokers give you any trouble?"

"Nyet. They are perfect gentlemen."

Francis chuckled, "Good. She lies. That's how you know she's a girl."

Alfred shot him a dirty look before Natalya could, "You're one to talk. When's the last time you were with a _girl_?"

Francis's good natured smile disappeared and Arthur coughed uncomfortably.

"That's what I thought." Alfred's eyes narrowed, "I have more on the two of you than Julian Assange, so shut up." He sat down next to them and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Natalya stared at him.

Alfred felt her eyes on him and looked up, a slight blush on his cheeks that he pulled off well, "Miss Arlovskaya, would you care to sit? It's your table."

Natalya nodded stiffly, sliding into a chair opposite him.

"Coffee or tea?"

"Chai." Natalya answered as she pulled a biscuit toward her.

Alfred nodded, pouring her a cup of tea. He looked at a loss after that.

"I can fix my own tea, Mr. Jones." Natalya deadpanned. She pulled saucer toward her and started preparing her tea the way her brother had taught her. Lemon. Sugar.

Natalya stirred it and drank deeply. Three sets of eyes watched her.

"Shto?" She asked, a little uncomfortable.

Alfred cleared his throat, "Isn't that hot?"

Natalya smirked. Oh. That. "Nyet, it's just fine."

Alfred still gawked at her as she drank her tea.

"Well!" Francis slammed his hands on the table making their tea cups rattle in their saucers, "I'm going to leave before I die of sexual tension."

Alfred glared at him as he left.

Arthur shrugged, "I'll go too. With all the _sexual tension_ around here, I might need a little 'tune up' from my boyfr—" He stopped and looked at Francis in terror. The Frenchman held the same horrified expression on his face.

"Your girlfriend." Alfred cleared his throat, "Yes, you go do that."

Arthur nodded shakily and Francis supported his elbow as they left together. Alfred shot a quick look back at Natalya who was watching them curiously over her teacup.

"You…" He swallowed, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"That the CEO of BP is gay?" She asked coolly, "That depends."

Alfred took a deep breath, "Please…? It's… BP is not a homophobic company. We would just prefer to keep this on the QT."

Natalya set down her cup, "While I do not know what the letters 'QT' might have to do with anything, I do understand why you might be worried." Her violet eyes flashed, "It's social and business suicide to reveal that a CEO is a homosexual, much less that he has a French lover."

"Please, Miss Arlovskaya. If this got out…"

She nodded, "But can you really expect me to give up on something like this so easily? It's wrong."

Alfred's jaw hardened, "For your information. There is _nothing_ wrong with being gay it's just—"

"It's wrong to make him hide it." Natalya cut him off, "You shouldn't do that."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I know."

"You shouldn't have to hide things about yourself or pretend you're someone else."

Alfred looked up, "No…" His blue eyes glinted with something strange, "You shouldn't."

Natalya shook her head, "It's wrong. You shouldn't change yourself."

"Or your appearance."

"Exactly. You should be yourself. You shouldn't hide." She smiled.

"Hide… No. You shouldn't. Who are you hiding from anyway?"

She nodded, "Yourself. You're hiding from yourself. Hiding things that you think people can't handle."

"Like pain?" Alfred had stood up and was steps away from her, "Tears? Abuse?" His blue eyes bored into hers, "You're hiding from yourself?"

Her mouth opened and her eyes widened, "I-I…"

He frowned, looking at her closely, "Why do you hide?"

"So they don't get me." Natalya whispered before she knew what was happening.

"Who?" His face was inches away from hers.

"The people." She swallowed, "They take you to the rooms."

"What rooms?" His breath mingled with hers.

"The numbered ones. Arlovskaya. We're all Arlovskaya."

He nodded, "Are you crazy?"

"Da." Natalya couldn't look away, "Very. Are you an asshole?"

"Yes." Alfred smiled, placing his hand beneath her chin, "Very much so, Natalya."

She smiled back, leaning into his touch, "I thought so, Mr. Jones."

"It's Alfred." He breathed, closing his eyes and moving in closer.

Her eyes widened and she backed away, "N-Nyet.. Alfred isn't real. Nyet!" She pushed passed him, "Get away from me. He isn't real. He was a story. Somebody to help me when I was little. They brought in doctors. The men. The men did things. Alfred helped me. He told me everything was going to be okay when it wasn't." Tears streaked her face and she was pacing, "When they did all those things." Her terrified eyes caught Alfred's concerned look, "They did things to me that no little girl should have to do. Alfred helped me. He came when the men came. He talked to me. He was my friend. And then they took him away!"

She was screaming, "They found out about him! They found me talking to Alfred one day. And they sent me away! They took me. They took Alfred with me. But they left my name. All the children that came from wealthy families like mine were given the name Arlovskaya. They took me to a room. Alfred came with me. He always came with me. Then… They took him too." She choked, hugging herself close, "They took everything."

"Until Vanya came back. He saved me from them. But now I own him. I need to behave or he'll send me back. I'm lucky he only beats me." Natalya fell to her knees before him, "Please, Mr. Jones. Don't tell him about this. I need to behave. Don't make him send me back. Please."

Alfred blinked, a horrified look on his face, "M-Miss Arlovskaya, I-I…" He swallowed, "I don't know what to say. You've been speaking in Russian most of this time."

Natalya sobbed, crumpling in on herself and trying to speak in English, "Please… Please, don't tell him. Please don't let him send me back."

Alfred nodded, "Yes. Of course. Anything." He knelt down next to her, putting an arm around her delicate frame, "I'm real. There's no other Alfred. You aren't going to get in trouble for talking to me."

She looked up, her face still stained with tears, "How much Russian do you speak, Mr. Jones?"

He chuckled; amused that she'd pick up on something like that, "Enough." His face fell, "It's alright. You're safe. No one's going to send you back."

Natalya nodded, "Da.. Thank you." She gave him a watery smile, "Thank you, Al-Alfred."

His face lit up, "You're very welcome, Natalya."

Those blue eyes. They were so close. Her thoughts began to meld with her hopes and fears. Alfred. Alfred was back. He had always saved her in the past and maybe he would now. He knew all the demons in her and could make them be gone. Alfred could always do that for her.

"_It'll be okay, Natalya." The little boy whispered, "They'll be gone soon."_

_Tears ran down the little girl's face, "Alfred. I can't do it."_

"_You can!" He nodded with earnest, "They'll be gone soon." The boy smiled, "You'll be alright. You'll always be alright."_

Natalya brushed back the golden hair that fell in his face, "It'll be alright, Alfred. It'll always be alright."

Alfred's blue eyes were full of questions but he leaned into her touch, "Y-Yes.. Yes, Natalya. You'll be alright."

She grinned through a kind of haze and pulled him closer. Their lips met. Alfred's hands came up to cup her face, getting over the shock quickly. His lips were softer than she would have thought and he was gentle as he kissed her.

An arm wrapped around her waist and he mumbled into her lips, "Natalya…"

She jerked away, "What the hell are you doing?!" Natalya stood up before he could even respond.

"What?! You kissed me!" Alfred accused, scrambling to his feet.

Natalya was fuming, her cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment, "I did nothing of the sort! And you just wait until my brother hears about this!" She stalked out of the room.

"You won't tell him!" Alfred called after her, "You'll never tell him! Then he'll know you kissed an American."

Natalya scowled, not turning around. Oh, this man thought he knew her? Alfred knew her. This man just had the same name. No. He didn't know her. She'd tell her brother. In fact, she'd tell her brother right away.

She walked quickly through the halls, keeping her hands at her sides. One moment. One little indiscretion. But it wasn't her fault; she was still a good little girl.

"I would never kiss him. I'm a good child. I'm a good little sister." Natalya muttered to herself, ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that whispered, _'You're twenty two.'_

Her feet just kept moving. Where was her brother? She was near his bedroom when she heard his voice waft through the door. Relief flooded her face as she burst through door.

"Vanya, I've been looking everywhere for—" Natalya's eyes widened and she shut the door quickly. Her breath quickened as she backed away, her eyes still wide. She couldn't comprehend what she'd seen. Her brother with another person. Another man. That Chinese business man that had helped improved their last fiscal quarter. Wang Yao.

She swallowed. But no, it wasn't that. She walked _in_ on them. Her punishment would be swift and harsh. Trying to swallow with a dry mouth, Natalya turned around. Her mind was spinning and she felt tears welling up in her chest. Punishment. She didn't need any more defects. She was defective enough.

She ran as fast as she could, praying that she would make it back to her room before she lost her mind. Natalya wasn't stupid. She knew that she was crazy, but that didn't mean she could control it. Her thoughts flew apart as she tore away to her room. Just back there. Something in there would help.

Only flashes of her surrounding registered in her mind. Sprinting down a hallway. Stumbling up stairs. Clawing at a door knob.

Before she knew it, Natalya burst into her room. She ran to her dresser and looked at the two bottles of pills. That was the question. Ups or downs? Which one would make her forget this ever happened for a little while?

With shaking fingers she opened one of the bottles at random and swallowed a pill dry. She looked down at the bottle. Shit. It was an upper. She fell back on the bed, just wanting to sleep. But the pill would take effect soon, making her get up and continue with that Godforsaken day.

"What are you doing?"

Natalya's eyes shot open to see Alfred standing in her doorway, "How long have you been there?!"

"I've been following you since to atrium." He entered the room, a small frown on his face, "Didn't you see me?"

She sighed, putting a hand to her head, "I don't have time for you, Mr. Jones."

"But you have time for these?" He asked as he picked up the pill bottle. Alfred furrowed his brow, straining to read the Cyrillic.

"It's in Russian." Natalya stated, not looking up.

He nodded, "But as you might recall, I _do_ speak a little."

She jumped off the bed and snatched the pill bottle away, "Da. I remember." She shoved the bottle into one of the drawers in her bureau, "That was right before you kissed me."

Alfred's face darkened a little as she turned around.

"Why are you in my room, Mr. Jones?"

He shrugged, sitting down in the chair by her bedside, "I was curious and just tad bit worried." His head cocked to the side, "You okay?"

Natalya glared at him, "Da. As I said before, I'm perfectly fine."

He nodded and looked around her room, "Is that why you're taking pills?" Alfred picked up another bottle on her nightstand, "Ahhh… This one's more legible." His eyebrow's raised as he read it.

Natalya walked over and took that one too, "Would you stop?!"

Alfred looked up at her, surprise in his blue eyes, "You're on some heavy medication. Tranquilizers?" He nodded to the bottle in her hand and her grip around it tightened.

"Kak by vy eto znayete? (1)"

A small smile appeared on his face, "They were on your nightstand. Downs to go to sleep?"

Natalya shifted uncomfortably, but didn't deny it.

"And…" He drawled, standing up and walking over to her, "Ups to get up in the morning?"

Her jaw hardened, "What of it?"

Alfred shook his head, "It's bad for you."

Natalya sneered, pushing past him to put the bottle of tranquilizers back on her bedside table, "And how would you know?!" She asked again.

He chuckled, "How do you think…?"

She turned around slowly, eyeing him suspiciously. Alfred just smiled and tilted his head to the side, "Hello, I'm Alfred and I'm a drug addict."

Natalya blinked at him, "Da… I believe we've met."

He gave her a lopsided smile, "Yeah. I know. Don't worry about it." Sighing, he looked down at his feet. "Former," he added, "former drug addict." Alfred looked up at her uncomfortably, taking a step toward her, "I know what they do to you. At first you think that you can control it. Just one pill when you need it."

Natalya swallowed, trying to look away from him but failing.

"Then it's once a week. Then once a day. Then just one in the morning and one at night. Then…" He stepped closer, "Then it's out of control. Then you just need it to function."

She shook her head, "Nyet.. I don't need it."

He bit his lip, "They'll change you. I see it happen all the time."

"Nyet!" Natalya glared at him, "I don't need your help! I-I.." She cocked her head to the side and giggled, "You're.. You're Alfred."

He nodded, confused, "What…? Yeah. I am.." His eyes widened, "The pill.. It kicked in, didn't it?"

She grinned up at him, "Da! Da, _Alfred_!" She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight and leaving him no time to respond, "You're my hero. You could never leave me. I knew it! They couldn't take you! You came back! You always come back…"

"No.." Alfred shook his head, "You don't know what you're saying. You think I'm—"

Natalya cut his words off with a kiss, moving her lips with his in a fiery passion. When she finally pulled away, fingers ghosting over the blush on his cheek, she giggled up at his slightly glazed expression.

"You're funny, Alfred," she cooed. In her mind this man was the grown up version of her best friend. Her imaginary friend, come to life. And it was more than she could have ever hoped for. Her fingers moved down from his face to his chest. "You've always been so good to me… Always told me everything was alright. You made me feel better." Her hand moved from his chest to his belt buckle, "Let me make _you_ feel better."

In one quick motion, Natalya pushed him onto the bed and crawled on top of him—straddling his hips.

Alfred eyes widened more, "No.. What?! Natalya! You're high! I can't—"

Her lips were on his again, doing marvelous things with her tongue that made Alfred forget everything expect the fact that a hot girl was on top of him, kissing him like it was her job. He growled in the back of his throat, flipping her over and kissing back aggressively.

Natalya had never done this before, with anyone. The men had done things to her. And the institution did things like this to her, but she'd never chosen to do this. Although this wasn't just anyone. This was Alfred, her best friend. She smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to her.

The pill. It made everything seem… better. Happier. She used to be such a gloomy person, but now she could pretend to be happy. After a while, they changed her style.

**X~X~X**

(1) How would you know that? (Russian)

* * *

**(A/N): Have an awesome Halloween, everybody! I made my costume this yeah and I'm Punk!Hungary. It's gonna be sweet~**


	5. Sooner or Later falls apart

**(A/N): Okay! Here it is! Sorry this is taking so long, but they are long chapters and I'm working on other things as well. I swear. I will_ never_ give up on you guys! Thanks again to all of my reviewers and people that support me like this! I love you all.. Every. Last. One. Of. You. And I'll try to write this more quickly, but no promises. Also! Only like... Two more chapters left anyway.**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER! The Institution (some people find stuff like that disturbing), sexual situations, swearing, and plot twists.  
**

* * *

_Oooh. Spare your heart. Everything put together, sooner or later falls apart. There's nothing to it. Nothing to it._

**X~X~X**

"What are you seeing?"

Natalya swallowed, curling up on the small chair that she sat in all day. "Nothing. Only you." She heard something to her right and turned her head to look at him. The little boy's golden hair fell in his face and he grinned at her.

"_It's okay. I'm still here."_

"What are you seeing, Natalya?!"

Her eyes widened and she looked back at the man all in white, sitting with her in her bedroom. "Nothing, Doctor!"

The man frowned, tapping his clipboard, "It's him again, isn't it?"

"Nyet!" She shook her head furiously, "No one!"

"Alfred…? That was his name, correct?" The doctor asked her, his coal black eyes studying her.

"Nyet… Because he does not exist. He's a figment of my imagination." She recited the words the same way every time, barely old enough to understand them. "He's not real."

The man leaned back in his chair, a twisted look of disappointment on his face. Natalya stared back, her wide violet eyes unblinking.

"You're lying," the man said simply.

And she was. Her imaginary friend Alfred might not have existed, but he was very much real. He'd helped her with so much. When the nine year old had been much younger, she'd been troubled. She'd taken to throwing fits and would lie and deceive to get her way. She would still do that, but she was better at disguising it now. But her parents had believed her a psychopath and to be fair, they weren't entirely off.

But when they called in doctor after doctor, it only made it worse. Some of them just quit, but others, one in particular, dealt with Natalya in a different way. Corporal Punishment. To a five year old. The pain had and terror had been too much for her to deal with, so she split. All of her hopes and dreams went into one little spot and were molded into a human form. A little boy. Alfred, her best friend.

Now he was with her all the time, helping and guiding her through her day long sessions with the men upon men that were paid to fix her. The doctors tried to help, they really did, but she wouldn't let them. Her lies and deceit only grew stronger as she would make up things to confuse them so much they were twisted around. It was only when they mentioned Alfred that she would clam up and stay perfectly still, only saying enough to keep them from hitting her.

Alfred smiled at her out of the corner of her eye and she couldn't help but smile back. He might have been the cause of her most recent problems, but she wouldn't trade him for the world. She couldn't imagine what would happen if he ever left her. Or was taken.

"_Natalya, doesn't he look like that one man we saw at Mama's and Papa's party?"_

Natalya looked at the doctor closely, who was still leaning back in his chair and studying her. Alfred was right! He did look like him! She suppressed a giggle and muttered under her breath to the little boy, "Maybe he _is_ the man."

Alfred grinned, getting up from where he was sitting on the floor and walking over to her doctor. He stuck out his tongue and made faces behind the man's back. Natalya giggled, smiling at the boy, "Quit it, Alfred!"

"Very well." The doctor sighed, standing up.

Her face paled, "Wh-What…? What do you mean?"

The man shook his head, peering into her face, "You're unfixable. I'm recommending you be sent somewhere."

Natalya's eyes widened and she looked at Alfred, his face was as panicked as her but he didn't say a word.

"You'll leave as soon as your parents review my analysis of your condition."

Her head spun and she stood up, her little mind unable to figure out what was happening. "Go?! Go where?!"

Before she knew it, Alfred was looking into her eyes, blocking her view of the man who'd been joined by three others.

"_Natalya, listen to me. You're going to be fine. You're going to be alright. I promise. And I'll always be here."_

Tears stung her eyes as she looked into his light blue ones and nodded, "Da.. St-Stay with me, Alfred. P-Please.."

"_Always."_

**X~X~X**

Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing was still ragged. Natalya's platinum blonde hair stuck to her brow as she tried to catch her breath, her wide violet eyes becoming clearer and clearer by the second as the pills wore off.

"Wow…"

Her head shot up. Alfred's expressive blue eyes gaze back at her, something different sparkling in them. His strong arms held her close to his chest, almost protective. "That was…"

Her mind spun, still hazy from everything, but she was sure that he was Alfred. Not her friend, her brother's business associate. She trembled slightly, fear and anger combining and bubbling up over the surface of her calm mask. "A mistake. Da."

Alfred shook his head, pulling her closer as he kissed her forehead. "No.. No. Not a mistake. Amazing.. I-I.. I mean I've been with women before but.."

"You're babbling," she said quickly, pulling away from him. "And if you ever mention this to anyone, you'll be sorry."

He chuckled, a light hearted smile on his face, "You can't be serious."

Her jaw was set as she stared at him.

His face fell and he tried to pull her back to him as she began to get up. "What?! No! No, you can't be… I-I.." He trailed off, looking at her body.

Natalya stood, suddenly aware that she was completely naked. Black and blue and purple bruises littered her skin along with ageing yellow and green ones, not to mention the old scars on her arms. He stared at the blemishes, on her stomach and thighs and chest. Her breath quickened and she turned away.

"Why..?" He asked—his voice softer than it had been.

"Why what?!" She snapped, going to her closet and finding a clean slip.

"Why would someone do this?" Alfred stood, slipping on his boxers quickly, and walked over to her slowly, "It's… Horrible." He burned with anger, how _could_ someone do this?! How could they live with themselves?! His eyes glided down, not daring to touch her yet.

"Oh.." Natalya looked down at her body. She winced; just looking at them was painful. "These? It's not that bad.."

"Your back.." His eyebrows furrowed, looking at the place she couldn't reach.

She frowned, turning her body as though trying to look at it. "What about it?"

"It's.." He stepped closer to her, running his fingers down the soft pale skin, "Clean. It's not bruised.."

Natalya jumped away from him, glaring fiercely. "Get your hands off of me!"

"You didn't seem to mind it a few minutes ago!" He snapped back, startled by her harshness.

Her nostrils flared. Anger filled her mind. "Get out."

Alfred swallowed, suddenly aware of his words' impact. "I-I.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Really.. I didn't. Please.. Natalya I—"

"Out!" She cried, grabbing him and pushing him to the door, "And I don't ever want to hear you say my name again!"

Alfred stumbled back, his shoulder hitting the door. "I'm sorry! I just wanted to help.. I-I.. I didn't mean to.." He looked at her, pleading. "Please.. You're.. I've never.. I've never met anyone like you. It-It's.. And I think I-I.."

Her gaze remained on him, as furious and icy as it had ever been. "If you say one more word, I will slit your throat." She spoke slowly, letting her words sink in.

His face contorted in confusion and hurt. "Natalya…"

A knife flew at him, burying itself in her door. "OUT! NOW!"

Alfred opened the door, tripping over his own feet as he ran out. Slamming the door shut, he closed his eyes. "… love you.." He finished quietly. "I think I-I.. l-love you.." Alfred sighed, shaking his head. "And you're too crazy to care.." He looked down at himself, only in boxers. "Shit. Her brother's gonna kill me."

Natalya shrieked, seeing red. She grabbed another knife from her dresser and flung it at the closed door. It hit and stuck with a sharp thunk. Her hands balled up into fists. She didn't know why she was so angry; maybe it had something to do with Alfred. Both of them. All of them.

Her lips quivered as she looked at the closed door. He'd left. She'd asked him to leave, but he'd gone all the same.

"You said you'd never leave," she whispered, "Alfred.. You said you'd always be here for me." No one responded. Alfred was gone. They'd made him go away. He'd left.

Natalya sighed heavily, turning around to find her dress when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted as she stared at her back. Alfred had been right. Her back was unharmed. Completely unmarred.

"What…?" It didn't make sense. Ivan had thrown her against a wall just last week. Or yesterday. Or… Natalya closed her eyes, trying to remember. The memories should be vivid and brutal, but they were fuzzy and unclear.

All of her memories from the Institution were so clear, at least the ones that hadn't been shocked out of her. Struggling to remember exactly what had happened, Natalya screwed up her face in concentration. But nothing came. Ivan. That's all she could see. It was him. He was hurting her, but she couldn't remember how.

But when she tried to think of Ivan, only one thing came to mind. A memory. A memory from before she was sent away. Not one of abuse, but of love and a promise. A promise her brother made to her.

**X~X~X**

Natalya smiled brightly, skipping down the hallway with her best friend. "Alfred! Did you hear what happened last week?!"

The little blonde boy grinned back at the eight year old girl, _"'Course! Your Mama is going to have another baby! What do you think about that?"_

She shrugged, "I hope it's another boy. Then it'll be girl, boy, girl, boy!"

"_Yeah!"_ He nodded, _"Do you ever think about how much older Ivan and Katya are?"_

"Da." Natalya frowned at little, "Katush is 10 years older and Vanya is 8."

"_And this new baby will be 8 years younger than you."_

"Well… That's just want Mama wanted."

"_But don't you think…"_ Alfred trailed off, looking behind him. His eyebrows knit together, _"Did you hear that?"_

"Hmmm?" She turned around, watching him. "Here's what?"

"_No. Hear."_ He walked slowly back the way they'd come. _"In here though.."_

Natalya didn't move as Alfred peered into a room, the door half open, they had passed, "Al-Alfred… You shouldn't go in there. That's Vanya's room."

He shrugged her off, _"You have to see this for yourself, Natalya."_

She swallowed, "What is it?"

"_Come look."_ He said— a blank look on his face.

"No.." Natalya shook her head, backing away. "Just tell me."

"_I can't."_ Alfred spoke softly, _"You know that."_

She nodded. He couldn't tell her anything that she didn't know. "D-Da…" Slowly she approached the door and her fingertips pushed it open fully. A bit of light filtered in from a closed, dirty window, but otherwise it was dark. A deep, sob came from inside and Natalya's eyes widened. Shaking her head, her foot slid back.

"_Go in."_

Alfred's voice was like a command, making her do something she wanted to forget. But as she heard the man's crying grow a little louder, she ignored her own fears and listened to her best friend. As she walked the room her brother came into full view. His shoulders hunched over as he sat on his bed, shaking slightly.

"Vanya…?" Her voice was quiet, cautious.

His head lifted slowly, cheeks streaked with tears. Natalya had never seen something so sad, but once he saw her, Ivan smiled. "Little sestra, come here."

Not quite sure of what was happening, she crossed the room and stood in front of him. He gave her a watery chuckle and pulled her into his lap. Ivan hugged her close, burying his face in her little shoulder. Natalya got chills as she felt his wet tears on her neck.

"Vanya, you've been crying," she stated.

"Da… I have." Ivan took a deep breath before looking up at her once more, "You would miss me if I left, da?"

She nodded quickly, "I don't want you to ever leave!"

A small smile tugged at his lips, "I don't want you to leave either." Ivan sighed, a thoughtful look on his face.

"… What's wrong, Vanya?"

"_I think he's upset."_ Alfred piped in. Natalya rolled her eyes, not even looking at the boy. Yes. Very helpful.

"It's nothing," the man said finally after a moment's pause.

Natalya frowned, "If it were nothing, you wouldn't be crying."

He looked away, "It's more than you could understand."

Anger flashed across her face and she hit his shoulder lightly with her tiny fist. "I'm eight! You're only sixteen! How much more could you know?!"

"Love," Ivan said simply.

"Love…?" She blinked, taken aback, "You're in love with someone? Who?"

Ivan cracked a smile, "Nyet, Natasha. I am not _in_ love. But I…" He swallowed, "I know who I will love when I do."

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to see through his veiled words. It was an odd look for an eight year old. "I-I… What?"

"It's…" He sighed, hugging her close again. "I will never love like a 'normal' person." She felt him flinch slightly at the word. "Papa thinks I'm sick and Mama thinks I'm broken. Defective."

Defective. The word rang in her ears. Defective… Like he was full of defects.

"_Don't listen to him.."_ Alfred warned, knowing what she was thinking.

And Natalya didn't listen to him. But it might have been the wrong 'him' according to Alfred.

"You're not defective, Vanya," she said quietly, stroking his white hair. "You're normal. Just like me."

Alfred snorted. _"Yeah. You and him. The most normal people I've ever met."_

Natalya scowled but continued to ignore him. Her brother smiled at that, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you… And.. I suppose you are old enough to listen."

She nodded—a childish grin on her face. "Da! Anything for you, big brother."

He pulled her closer, closing his eyes tight. "I-I.. I like b-boys." His voice broke.

"Okay…" Natalya frowned, "I don't like them. I think boys are gross. But…" She sighed heavily, "I _guess_. If you really like them.."

Ivan grinned even through the tears that were falling from his eyes once more. A sob escaped his throat. "I love you, sestra. I love you, Natalya. I will never let anything happen to you. I will never let you get taken anywhere." He looked into her eyes with a fierce gaze he reserved for things that concerned his family's wellbeing. "Never, ever."

A smile pulled at her lips. "Of course, Vanya!" Natalya threw her arms around him, "I don't want you to go anywhere either! But.. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere!" She giggled.

His face fell and he pulled her into another tight hug, "I-I.. I know you aren't. I promise. Never."

Natalya smiled. "Never."

She was taken within six months.

**X~X~X**

She sighed, pulling the slip over the bruised skin on her front and the untouched skin on her back. Natalya's eyes fluttered shut as she drew in a deep breath. That memory, when Ivan had first come out to her, always stuck with her. It reminded her that people could be broken and fixed. Ivan had been broken, this one thing that he could never change about himself, that fact that he was gay, had broken him. But he'd fixed it. He wasn't broken anymore. Her only wish was to be more like him. Not broken. Fixed. Fixed by her own hand.

**X~X~X**

Alfred cursed under his breath, clumsily tugging on his dress slacks for the meeting in half an hour. Thankfully, though he wished he knew who to thank for this miracle, he'd made it back to the guest room he was staying in without detection. He shuddered to think what might have happened had Ivan caught him sneaking out of his little sister's room in just his boxers.

With a sigh he buttoned his shirt, his fingers fumbling when he remembered the girl. Her soft pale skin, the way her platinum hair cascaded down her back. The feeling of her lips on… A red blush crept up Alfred's cheeks, making him feel hot about the collar even as he buttoned it up.

He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. How? How had this woman already done what so many before he tried and failed at? This woman, Natalya Arlovskaya, had staked a claim on his heart, one that he would never be rid of, and she didn't even want the damn thing.

Alfred bit his lip, looking at himself in the mirror. Pathetic. Pining over a woman he'd known for less than twenty four hours. Absurd. But even as he contemplated his true blue eyes in the glass, he could feel something change. Could it be..? Could it be that Alfred F. Jones might finally care about something other than himself?

He shook that thought off too, tying the red, white, and blue tie around his neck. The tie that Arthur had told him specifically _not_ to wear. Something about that being the Russian colors as well as the American ones and Cold war and Capitalism and blah blah blah. Whatever. He'd stopped listening.

Alfred glared at his refection in the mirror once more. No. That woman was nothing. Just because he'd almost said 'I love you' to her after about five minutes, didn't mean anything had changed. He was still the same. The same man that would do anything just to get ahead, including seducing his business associate's very attractive sister… Very attractive. His train of though was not just lost, it was run off a cliff somewhere. Perhaps stranded in a tall, snowy mountain range he'd learned about in school. He couldn't think of the name of one because he had not been paying attention in that class either.

Where was he…? A faint clanging from a grandfather clock brought him out of his train of mind that had long crashed and burned. His eyes widened, "Shit!" If Ivan didn't kill him for sleeping with his sister, Arthur would for being late.

Alfred practically leapt out of the room, only to return seconds later to put his shoes and socks on. He cursed again, more vulgar this time, as he fell over while yanking the dress shoe onto his foot. But eventually he managed to get fully dressed and stumbled out of the room.

He had no time to be nervous about anything as he ran through the house, trying to find the room they would be meeting in. Alfred blinked. Normally he wasn't one to notice things like this kind of beauty, but this house was quite remarkable. He would bet anything that it was the older sister's doing, Katya was her name? Natalya hadn't seemed to care about the beauty of the house, rather the actually objects in the house. He'd seen her touching things like they were sacred and…

Gritting his teeth, Alfred shook his head. And just like that, he was thinking about that woman again! Why? She wasn't anything special.

A small voice whispered in the back of his mind, telling him that she was. Natalya was special. Beautiful in a completely different way than any of the other women he'd been with. Unique. And hey, didn't men marry women with schizophrenia and other mental problems? So it didn't really matter that Natalya was entirely insane.

Alfred stopped short, faltering in his long strides through the house as his eyes widened. Had he really just thought that? That word. What. The. Actual. Fu—

The American took a deep breath. No, he would not… marry Natalya. Why was he even thinking anything like this? It didn't make sense. He slept with the girl once and while trying to declare his love for her, which was ridiculous on its own, she'd thrown him out of the room. No. He did not love her. But…

That didn't mean that he didn't care.

Alfred ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the follicles he'd just brushed. His mind filled with thoughts as he continued to run along through the house, bumping into walls and praying that he didn't break something. Also hoping that he was going the right direction. But through his thoughts of business that he was forcing himself to focus on, thoughts of the woman upstairs wormed in.

Her bruises. Her ramblings. Those things she had said in Russian. The lightening. What did she mean by lightening? Why was her back so clear? Was Ivan doing this? She'd said he was and she'd said he wasn't. What did that mean? Maybe he was but she couldn't fully admit it to herself. Maybe—

Alfred's rambling mind had fully distracted him from his main purpose, which was trying to get to the meeting and maintaining his motor functions, and he ran straight into the very man he'd been thinking about. Ivan.

His clear blue eyes widened as he looked up a little at the man, "M-Mr. Braginski!"

Ivan offered him a smile, "Ahhh… Mr. Jones. I take it that you are headed to the meeting as well, da?"

Alfred nodded, standing up straight and trying to ignore the slightly terrifying small on the Russian's face, "Uhhh.. Yeah! That's where I'm trying to go." He scratched the back of his head, "But… I keep getting lost."

"Oh, da. Many people do. Katya has attempted to make this house less confusing, but to no avail. Shall we?" He tilted his head to the side as if he was not fully convinced that everything Alfred told him was the truth.

But Alfred only nodded walking along with him and trying to think about anything other than what this man's sister was like in bed. She was… Quite amazing, passionate and… His face flushed. This was not helping.

"Mr. Jones..?" Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin as she glanced over at Ivan who was walking next to him. Those violet eyes that were normally carefree were hard and angry. "Have you seen my little sister?"

He swallowed, trying to think, "No! Well.. Not since last night. R-Right..?"

Ivan glared at him, giving him a glimpse of the cruel and relentless man he could be. "Are you certain? If I find out differently from her, I will be very upset."

Alfred's blood chilled. Natalya would tell Ivan, he was positive. She believed her brother was about the most perfect, wonderful thing in the world. There was no way that she would keep something like this from him.

"I saw some things, Mr. Braginski." His voice was quiet, the same as Ivan's, "Bruises. I think it's best for both of us if we don't mention this again."

Shock and a little fear flitted into Ivan's eyes before they hardened, "And what exactly are you implying?" He paused, confusion and another emotion that Alfred couldn't place written all over his face, "How did you see these things you are telling me about..? I know my sister, she doesn't offer information lightly. And never to strangers."

Alfred glared back at him, completely disgusted by a man that could do these things to a damaged person like Natalya. Or to anyone. "I saw them. Apparently you don't tell her to hide them well enough."

The accusation didn't faze the taller man this time; he simply responded with, "My sister is a very troubled young woman. I don't know what she's told you, but I can assure you that none of it is true."

"Her bruises say otherwise!" Alfred was getting angry, "How can you deny it when I've seen them?! They're everywhere! Her legs, her stomach, her breasts—" His eyes widened as Ivan stepped closer. Every other emotion had disappeared from the Russian's mind except hate and fury.

"Mr. Jones…" His voice was barely controlled as he spoke quietly, "You had better think very hard about your answer to my next question." And just like that, the control he'd held on his voice broke and his words turned harsh as he spat at the American, "How do you know about her bruises?"

Alfred could have responded many ways. He could have explained how her dress had slipped. How when he dipped her back, she'd winced. Anything. Anything other than what he said.

"I fucked her."

In a split second everything exploded, popping like fireworks. Brilliant, colorful, gorgeous, awe-inspiring, terrible. All of these words flitted into his mind as he tried to describe the color of Ivan's eyes as the animal inside him broke free.

A sharp pain reverberated through Alfred's body, focused on his jaw, as Ivan punched him. Alfred fell to the ground and the larger man pounced on him; the animal inside him only focused on one thing—protecting his family.

His fists bloodied Alfred's face, striking him again and again until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was not there to stop him or to goad him on, simply to inform that she was there. Ivan's face turned and fell when he saw his sister, Natalya, as she knelt down next to him.

She'd been watching the pair argue with an idle interest. Natalya had been looking for her brother, needing to talk to him. When she'd come upon him and Alfred, she stopped—unable to voice her objections. But as soon as Alfred had been knocked to the floor, Natalya had moved.

Her fingers brushed across the unconscious American's face, the tips smearing blood across his forehead. "I don't..." Her voice was quiet, not concerned about Alfred, but wary.

Ivan moved off of Alfred, breathing hard as he peered at his sister. "You don't what..?"

Natalya glanced up at him, recognizing the same man she'd seen all those years ago in his bedroom. The same Ivan that had promised her that nothing would happen to her. The one that had told her that he was gay. The one that had been broken.

"I don't understand.." Her violet eyes turned upon Alfred once more, "Why does he look different than me…? H-He.. His bruises.. They're bigger." Natalya looked up at her brother in confusion, her thoughts were falling apart. She didn't understand anything anymore, "B-But.. Vanya, if you did this.. Then why don't my bruises look like t-this..?"

Ivan gazed at his sister, trembling slightly as he reached out and touched her cheek softly. His violet eyes, now clear of the anger instilled in them by the unconscious man on the floor, filled with tears and his words were barely a whisper, "Because, sestra, I'm not the one giving you those bruises. It's y-you.. It's always been you." He kissed his forehead gently, trying to make her broken mind understand the truth, "I would never lay a finger on you. It's you. You're doing this to yourself."

* * *

**(A/N): Quick notes before I leave you, just so you guys aren't left wondering. I would hate to do that...**

**Natalya's mom did _not _have another child. Her siblings are so spaced out that her mother thought that (sorry for this if there any guys reading this) when her period stopped she was pregnant again. But it was just menopause. I'm only saying this because it has literally nothing to do with the rest of the story. So you don't have to wait for a 'long lost sibling' to come in.**

**And _yes_. Ivan is _not _lying to her. She really is abusing herself. Ivan, believe it or not, just wants to help her.**


	6. They'll lay you down for dead

**((A/N)): Yes.. I know, I know. This is SO late. Really I apologize to all of you followers. You have no idea how much I love you all! And here is your reward for putting up with all of my bullshit excuses (busy, college, love etc..)!**

**DISCLAIMER: Y'all know I don't own anything...**

**[WARNING] Okay... This story is messed up. Drugs, sex, lies. All the best things. But seriously! Triggers: Drugs, self harm and loathing, suicidal thoughts and actions, sexual situations, mentions of abuse, and pretty bad language.**

* * *

"_You can cry or you can lie. For all the good it'll do you, you can die. But when it's done, and the police come and they lay you down for dead."_

* * *

"You fucking moron."

Alfred's eyes fluttered open and he groaned, his whole body in pain as the English man continued to berate him.

"How much of a slut are you, Alfred?!" Arthur fumed, sitting next to the man's bed as he spoke, "You _actually_ fucked her! Braginski's sister. You actually did it. You bloody git. How stupid are you?!"

"Stupid enough to let that girl mess with my heart…" Alfred mumbled as he shifted in the clean white sheets.

Arthur pointedly ignored him, "You know, Francis wanted to take you to a hospital. I told him to go fuck himself. He told me he'd much rather that I do it." He sighed, rubbing his temples and pausing for breath, "You really messed up, Yank."

Exhaling shakily, Alfred looked up at him with an odd expression in his clouded blue eyes, "You don't know the half of it, Limey."

**X~X~X**

Sweat misted her brow and her eyes widened as she ran. Her feet tripped over themselves a little as she slammed into a wall. Her lungs burned as she took in ragged breaths, but she kept running. Natalya often ran away, through fields and forests dusted with a fine powdering of snow. Her feet glided over the grass, never touching the ground, and her muscles never tired as her speed never faltered. The running felt real, but it wasn't. Nothing was real. And when she woke up from her long runs, she was still at home in her bed.

But this… Natalya cried out, catching herself as she fell. This was real. She could feel every tiny detail. The cold, cruel air that ripped through her chest as she hyperventilated—needing all the oxygen that she could get. All of her self-inflicted bruises that burned and ached as her muscles stretched. Her stomach churned and the stitch in her side made her wince. A voice made her head whip around.

"N-NO!" Natalya screamed as the man drew closer to her, "NYET! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Sestra.." Ivan cooed behind her, voice breaking a little as the girl he'd sworn to protect at all costs ran away from him. He'd failed. He'd let her get hurt, hurt very badly. "Please. Natalya.. You don't need to do this. I won't hurt you. I promise. I only want to help.."

"Help?" She gritted her teeth, trying to scramble to her feet. But her muscles spasmed faintly and failed her. Natalya glanced back at her brother in utter terror mixed with rage. "They always want to help!" She shouted, backing herself up into a corner after her legs failed her a second time, "They want to make it all better! They want you to feel better! But they only make it worse!" She tucked her knees up to her chest, protecting herself from him as her voice lowered to a broken whisper, "It-It always g-gets worse.."

Her shoulders shook delicately as tears brimmed in her wide violet eyes. Natalya glanced up at her brother as the first tears fell, but she didn't notice, "V-Vanya.. I just want it to get better.. W-Why can't it g-get better?"

Ivan bit his tongue, a mournful sob welling up in his chest. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he knelt down in front of his little sister. "Sestra.. I-I.. I promised you that nothing would happen.." Carefully and noting her severe flinch, he put a tender hand on her shoulder, "I failed you." He pulled her into a firm, but warm embrace. Ivan buried his grief-stricken face in her hair, holding her close as she shook with sobs. "I'm so sorry.. S-So sorry, Sestra.."

Natalya shook her head quickly, clinging onto his shirt desperately, "Vanya! P-Please.. Please make it go away! Fix it.. Make it.. I-I.. I don't want to hurt anymore." She just wanted it to be over. All the memories. All the nightmares. The pills. The lightening. The dark. The things that go bump in the night. But minds, hers in particular, were fickle things.

She sucked in a shocked breath as her flashes of memories became more vivid. All those times Ivan had beaten her viciously, thrown her against a wall, and struck her into unconsciousness, disappeared. They were replaced by hazy, but real, memories of her own fists and… They faded again, but it was enough.

Natalya looked up at the silent man, her eyes wide and her face blank. "It.. It was me. It's me."

Ivan held her close again, his hands slipping a little as he just tried to comfort her. With every beat of his healthy heart, it seemed to break. Why..? Why did this have to happen to her? He should have been there. He should have protected her. "I know.. I know it is."

He closed his eyes, stroking her hair gently. All he had wanted was to help his little sister. But it was too late to save her from the demons of the outside world. They had gotten into her too early and for too long. He could keep her locked up, keep everyone away from her. But what good would that do? It was too late. He couldn't save her from herself.

"J-Just make it go away, Vanya!" She cried, begging him, "Make it all go away!"

Ivan kissed the top of her head before lifting her up easily; she was too light. He cradled her like a babe in his arms as he carried her to her room, mumbling to her the entire way. "Don't worry.. I will make it go away. I promise. You will finally feel better. It will all be over and you can.. you can finally rest."

As he laid her down on the bed, gently as if she were a fragile porcelain doll, her eyes slid open. "V-Vanya.. P-Please.."

He smiled—kind and loving. That's what she needed at the moment. "Da, Natalya. Anything."

Her dry lips parted as her clouded eyes drifted to the pills on her nightstand, "I-I.. I need them."

Ivan's gaze followed hers, landing on the bottle, and he bit his lip. Wordlessly, he supported her back, lifting her up just enough so that her shoulders rested against her headboard. He reached over and popped the top off the bottle, pouring the contents into his large cupped hand. His hand tilted back into the bottle until there were only two pills remaining. The man looked up at his sister, seeing the pain and suffering in her eyes. He just wanted to help…

Carefully, he tilted her head back, putting the pills on her tongue. He hastily picked up the glass on her nightstand and poured water into her mouth.

"Swallow.." Ivan said quietly and watched as her throat muscles moved down—the tranquilizers disappearing.

Natalya made a soft sound of thanks as he lowered her into a flat position once more and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Sleep, Sestra," he cooed, holding her hand gently. "Don't worry anymore.. Katya will take care of you."

Her fingers tightened on his hand as he tried to pull it away. Ivan looked down at the girl, her eyes still closed but a frown on her delicate features. "Don't leave. Vanya.. Please. Don't leave me."

He sighed, leaning down to kiss her forehead, "I will be here when you wake." Ivan stood, turning off her light as he lingered at her door.

"Da.." Natalya smiled as she whispered in a slightly breathless voice, "You'll be here.."

The Russian man smiled back at his sister, moving out of the doorway to leave her to sleep. But he stiffened at her next muttered words.

"And Alfred…"

Ivan's hand clenched around the doorknob and it took all of his self-control not slam the door. He closed it quietly with only a small click, feeling the rage surge through his body. Alfred. The American. Everything had gotten so much worse since that man had come into their lives. His sister was worse. No amount of money was worth putting Natalya through more pain.

**X~X~X**

It was the next morning before he awoke again, the talk with Arthur in the dull past. Alfred sat up in bed, rubbing his temples. Pain. He winced. So much pain. But it was getting better with every breath that he took. The large Russian had not broken any bones or done much else besides the surface blows. His lips were bloodied and his nose was bruised, perhaps along with a few ribs, but Alfred was healing. Healing in silence.

He sucked in a mildly painful breath as he opened his eyes. But the physical pain wasn't what troubled him.

"Natalya.." Alfred mumbled, shutting his eyes tight once more. That woman. She had infected his mind like some disease—a cancer that would not let him be. He gritted his teeth as he felt her silky hair slipping through his fingers. Her soft lips on his neck. Her violet eyes boring into his and staring into his soul as they stripped away layer upon layer. The memories, so fresh, filled his mind.

He should have been angry. Alfred should have wanted her gone, but he couldn't bring himself to. Natalya had changed something about him in their little time together. He should have wanted it to go back to how it had been before he had looked up to see that platinum haired vision staring at him. But he didn't want to be without her. No one would want the love gone once it had settled.

His eyes shot open. He had to see her. It wasn't something he desired. Alfred didn't lust for her, just wanting to stroke her once more. No. He didn't want to touch her. All he wanted… All he needed was her. To gaze upon the magnificent vision that was Natalya Arlovskaya.

With only a small groan of discomfort, he slipped out of the bed and padded to the door lightly. Just… to see her. Slowly Alfred inched the door open, eyes widening when he saw a man approaching. He closed the door quickly, but quietly. His breath came in ragged gulps as adrenaline pumped through his veins and he put his back to the door.

It was the Russian. Ivan. He'd probably come to finish him off. Alfred swallowed thickly, wincing as a wave of anguish engulfed him. He convulsed briefly, but stayed standing with his back against the door. The American took deep breaths, closing his eyes to overcome a sudden nausea.

Her brother had come to keep Alfred from her. To stop him from seeing Natalya. Ivan would slow him down, but would he stop him?

"Hell no.." Alfred panted out, wincing again.

**X~X~X**

Kill him.

Just kill him. Rip him limb from limb and listen to his screams of anguish. Hurt him. Torture him for daring to lay a finger on his sister.

Words flew through Ivan's head as he strode with purpose through his house. The American would pay for hurting his sister. That was all he cared about. Natalya was hurt, badly. There was nothing Ivan could do about that, but he could hurt Alfred just as badly.

His hand balled into a fist as his other one reached for the doorknob. Hurt him. Maim him.

"_And Alfred…"_

Ivan's eyes widened as his fingers trembled, letting go of the knob as he little sister's frail words echoed through his head once more.

"_And Alfred…"_

He swallowed, backing away from the American's door. Natalya. She was hurt, but Mr. Jones hadn't done that. Natalya had been hurt long before this. She had wanted Ivan to stay with her, to comfort her, but she had also wanted Alfred…

No. Harming the man that Natalya claimed she wanted would not solve anything. Not yet.

**X~X~X**

"What's wrong, cheri?" Francis whispered in the Englishman's ear before kissing it softly.

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into his boyfriend's touch as they sat quietly on his bed, "It's Alfred. He's going to ruin this. The deal. Our relationship with the Bragniskis. Everything."

The taller man frowned, rubbing Arthur's back as he muttered, "It'll be alright. You'll fix this. You always do."

"I know I do." He glanced up at Francis, matching his frown, "I just don't know if… I should."

Francis still his movements, eyes widening in surprise as he attempted to keep his voice even, "What…? What do you mean by that, lapin?"

"I mean.." Arthur turned away, biting his lip, "Something he said."

"Who?"

"Alfred. Something he said to me. About Natalya."

The Frenchman faltered yet again, "The… The sister?! The plain one with the anger issues?!"

"Lower your voice, pet," Arthur mumbled. "And yes. That one. Apparently after he slept with her, he…" He sighed, leaning forward and rubbing his temples, "… fell in love with her."

"He what?!"

"Lower. Your. Voice."

"Non! He fell in _love_ with her?! Is he insane?!"

Arthur sighed again, glancing over his shoulder at the man, "Yeah. He is. But that's not the point right now."

Francis gritted his teeth, "He can't be in love. He doesn't know what love is."

The Englishman's bushy eyebrows went up, "Oh? And you do?"

He paused, "I.. Oui? Don't I?"

"No. You don't. You love sex. That's different than being in love," Arthur glared back at the man.

Francis sighed, kissing his boyfriend's ear. "I don't want to have this fight again."

Arthur huffed but didn't respond.

"Je t'aime."

"No."

"I love you.."

"No!"

"Please..?"

"I… I know."

"You know what, lapin?"

"That.. I love you too."

Francis smiled, nuzzling his neck, "I knew you'd come around."

"Shut up, Frog," Arthur grumbled, suppressing a smile.

**X~X~X**

Her eyes shot open. Natalya had heard of people waking slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness until they finally forced themselves out of bed. But that was not how she awoke. Natalya sat up bolt right in bed, staring at everything around her.

Nothing. Blank. Her mind was a blank sheet of paper. Not one that had been erased, with little black smudges and bits of rubber scattered over the surface that alluded to something more than the white. Completely blank.

It took a few moments for her to even remember her name. Natalya. That was her. She was Russian. Blonde. She had a brother. And a sister. Slowly her paper filled up, no longer a white sheet of nothingness.

Neat little rows of information, written in perfect handwriting. Violet eyes. Scraping her knee when she was three. Having a tea party with her brother when she was five. Getting her first knife at age seven. And then she turned nine and the neat rows were scribbled over.

Her paper was spiraled with horrific drawing of lighting and needles. Arlovskaya.

Natalya's eyes widened as her shoulders shook. She remembered. But not everything. Her paper was full, but one crucial memory was missing. Her last conversation with her brother. Glancing down at her arm, she saw a bruise. A hazy, fictional memory of her brother grabbing her too tightly and pushing her to the ground sprung to mind. But nothing else. Not the actual memory of her own fist turning upon herself.

Her paper was full.

There was a knock on her door and Natalya's head jerked around, her eyes widening as the man stepped into her room silently. Alfred. Somewhere on her paper that name resided along with sticky details of their activities in between the sheets. Alfred F. Jones. He was on the paper.

But in a corner of the paper was a little face, inked darker than Jones. A young boy. Her friend. Alfred. This Alfred was gone and Natalya bit her lip as his face was slowly erased, becoming nothing but a leftover smudge. Written over the smudge was a number. 5. Room 5. The room with the lightening. The room he'd been taken in. Alfred was still there… in room 5. Ivan had saved Natalya from the room, but her friend was still there. In room 5.

The man in front of her stayed silent, walking forward warily. Alfred's eyes widened as she came into full view and he stopped— lips parted in a shocked smile. "Natalya.." he murmured breathlessly.

With him closer, Natalya could see him clearly. His lips were cut, though the blood had been cleaned off, and one of his eyes was swollen. And judging by how he winced as he walked, he was injured in other less visible ways.

"You're hurt." Her concern was directed toward the little boy that she had known, though she knew the American was not him. Natalya knew the Alfreds were different, but her mind didn't allow her to see them separately. Her paper was full. While she did care about the man before her, she loved his counterpart more than she could ever realize. Even though he had never existed.

"Yes.." Alfred breathed, his eyes fixed on her. His gaze unwavering.

Natalya sat still with her head tilted to the side slightly, watching him closely. "… Was it painful?"

That seemed to snap Alfred out of whatever kind of trance he was in. "Oh.." His award winning smile spread across his cut lips as he scratched the back of his head, wincing, "Yeah. It was. But I'm getting better."

She nodded as she leaned back against her headboard, looking away, "That's good."

Alfred's blue eyes sparkled and he stepped a little bit closer, "It is..?" She thought it was good. Did that mean she cared that he was hurt? His grin faltered only a little as he thought of how pathetic he must sound.

"Da. It can be. If you wish to feel better, then it is good." Her words were vague and quiet, but her eyes flicked over to his for a moment. Yes. She did care.

Alfred's grin returned to its former glory as he sat down in the chair next to her, deciding not to mention the fact that it had been her 'beloved' brother who had hurt him. He had blacked out before Natalya had appeared on the scene and she didn't remember. So with neither of them knowing the full story of what had transpired the subject of his attacker wasn't broached.

Natalya glanced up at him again, her thin eyebrows furrowing. "Did the meeting go well today?" she asked quietly.

Alfred blinked, trying not to the think about what her lips tasted like. "Oh.. The meeting? That was supposed to be yesterday. It hasn't been rescheduled yet."

She nodded, not fazed by the fact that she'd missed a day. There had been one week last year that Natalya had absolutely no memory of, other than Ivan carrying her home from someplace cold. Perhaps the woods. Memory loss was not unusual to this woman.

"I see. My brother was very eager to get this deal underway." Her hands intertwined themselves as she swallowed back the need for another pill. "Do you think that will still happen?"

"I…" His voice was barely a whisper as he pulled himself away from the thoughts of how soft her hair was. Alfred cleared his throat, "I don't know. It might, but the chances are very slim now."

Natalya bit her lip, brushing the hair out of her eyes as she sat up cross-legged, "This is my fault. Had I not…" Had she not have insulted Alfred. Had she not have collapsed in the middle of their party. Had she not have yelled at Arthur and Francis. Had she not have kissed Alfred. Had she not have walked in on her brother and Yao. "Had I not have slept with you, this might have gone better, Mr. Jones."

His lips parted and her words stabbed his chest with icy daggers. She regretted it. Of course she did. He was a snake. Alfred deceived women to sleep with them and deceived men to sleep with their wives, all the while maintaining very loose business ethics. He was a Casanova in the worst sense of the word.

Alfred lied and cheated to get what he wanted, leaving the women and most of the time the city before any ramifications caught up with him. But… That was before Natalya.

"It's.. It's Alfred," he insisted gently, taking one of her hands in his.

Natalya didn't look up at him and didn't have the energy to push him off. She squeezed his fingers carefully, closing her eyes and humming to herself softly. No. She didn't need one. Not another pill.

Alfred watched her, entranced. How..? How was it that this woman could do this to him? It didn't make sense. He shouldn't love her, but he did. He shouldn't want her, but he didn't want anyone else. It was her.

"I like that name."

Her voice was so quiet that he barely heard her at first. It wasn't until Natalya opened her eyes and glanced over at him, that Alfred realized it hadn't been in his head.

"I have always liked the name Alfred."

A giddy smile spread across his lips and he scooted forward to the edge of his chair, gazing at her as he laughed, "Me too!" Stupid. Why was he this stupid?! It seemed statistically impossible that he could be _this_ stupid _all_ the time.

But Natalya smiled, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand. Her smile was soft, peaceful. It brought warmth to his heart. It made him want to hold her and protect her from anything that could ever harm her. Protect her from… her brother.

"Come with me!" he blurted out, those violet eyes making it impossible to look away or hide his thoughts.

Her thin eyebrows furrowed and her smile faltered, "I-I… What? I do not understand what you are talking of, Alfred."

Alfred chuckled nervously, trying to cover up his words. And.. God. Her broken English just made her more adorable. "I-I.. What I meant was.." But he couldn't lie. Alfred had spent his entire life lying, whether it was for business or pleasure. But now his tongue twisted up painfully every time he attempted to even bend the truth a little.

He sighed, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he leaned down and kissed her hand gently. "You'll be the death of me… I.. Come with me. Back to America. You can get away from all of this. Th-This house. This family. Everything." Alfred looked up at her, a small smile playing across his lips.

Natalya's eyes widened and she pulled her hand away quickly. "Nyet! I can't leave. It's.." But something he had said gave her pause. Leave this house. This house… The Slav tried to picture it. Not living in this house. The place haunted her, dragging her back into the darkness of her mind. Delving into memories that Natalya had tried to leave behind. Going back to this house, the place where she'd been taken from, it was like reliving it all over again. Every time she opened her eyes.

And when she closed her eyes, lightening filled the darkness.

Alfred's heart sank. No.. No. Rejected. He felt his resolve crumbling and all he was left with was a desperate love. His bright blue eyes searched her for any kind of hesitance. Any sign that she might change her mind.

"I.. Pl-Please." His voice broke as his hand balled up in the sheets of her bed. He needed her.

Natalya bit her lip, forcing her eyes to meet his painful display. Those blue skies felt like heaven when they were turned upon her, spreading warmth through her veins that had always been so cold before the sun had shone down on her. He was her sun.

"Alfred," she whispered quietly, reaching out and stroking his cheek lightly. "I.. I need to leave this house." But even as the words left her lips, Natalya didn't understand them. Imagining the world outside, truly unprotected by those cold walls, was impossible. There was no place for the outside world in her mind.

Her paper was full.

In order to have new and wonderful experiences, she would have to write and color over old one. Memories. Natalya would be giving up her time at the Institution. Giving up… Alfred. She would be exchanging the old Alfred for the new one.

Alfred grinned, taking her hand in his again and kissing the back softly. "Yes! Yes. I can take you away, Natalya. I can give you a life outside this place. Free of pain and hurt."

Her eyes glazed over, thinking of the utopia he promised. That was all she had wanted. Natalya just wanted to be free and rid of the pain that stabbed her heart with every breath she took. "Alfred.."

The way his name rolled off her tongue, made the American unbelievably happy even as he edged closer to her. "Yes, Natalya. I promise. I will help you. You.. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"Will you help me with the lightening..?"

Alfred had never loved before. He had never felt the wonderful warmth that filled you just from knowing that the object of your affection was thinking of you. But… Because he had never loved, he had also never lost. The man didn't know what it meant to have your heart ache for another's pain. But he felt it now with that one whispered question the passed her lips.

"I.." Alfred choked, closing his eyes and pressed his forehead to the back of her hand, "The lightening can never hurt you again. I'll hold you when you're scared and I'll kiss you when you're sad. I-I.. I know I can make you laugh! If I t-tried.. I-I.." He bit his lip as every broken word escaped him. "I could make you h-happy."

Her fingers gripped the sheets as she stared down at him with furrowed eyebrows and twisted violet eyes. Thoughts swirled around in her mind. Hopes. Dreams. Everything that had been contained inside of her best friend. They were scribbled onto her paper, joining her nightmares.

But only one could stay. Hope or fear? Dreams or Nightmares? Light or Dark?

Her choice, one that had never been fully in her power to make, was taken away as the words on her paper began to fade. All of them. Alfred F. Jones. Blonde. Age nine. Violet eyes. Knives. They all faded back into white.

Those kind words were replaced by big block letters. They weren't written by some adult in passing like they had often been. No. These were scrawled by a child's hand, dark and bold. Pressed down so hard that the pencil lead shattered and sprinkled the paper with specks of graphite. Made by a child that was barely old enough to understand what was happening to her. Letters that filled her paper.

**Number 43**

Her paper was full.

Natalya's violet eyes widened as her lips parted with a silent shriek of horror. Her life. Gone in the blink of an eye and replaced with those numbers that had defined her for all of her life. Number 43.

"_Come here! Arlovskaya 43!_

"_Number 43, on your feet!"_

"_Time for your treatment, 43.."_

Her shoulders shook as she hyperventilated, taking rattling gulps of air into her lungs. Natalya pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking herself back and forth. 43. Muttered words in Russian slipped from her lips before she held her breath and her movements stopped all together. She hugged her knees tight, her fingernails digging into the flesh harshly, and she closed her eyes as she stopped breathing.

Sensory deprivation. Natalya wasn't even fully aware of what she was doing and its effect. But her brain began to shut down from her mental status and the lack of oxygen.

Alfred stood when her hand was yanked away from him and could do nothing but watch and listen as the woman broke down. But something inside him snapped when he saw her go still. He watched as Natalya held her breath, not moving a muscle. Panic flooded his veins. He knew… He knew better. But when she went still like that, all Alfred could see was a lifeless body. A corpse curled up in the fetal position.

He gritted his teeth against tears as he shook her. "Natalya! Stop it!" Alfred shouted, pushing her flat on her back on the bed.

The Russian woman, who seemed so much like a little girl at the moment, gasped for air again as she opened her eyes and looked up at Alfred. Fear and confusion haunted those violet orbs as her whole body trembled.

"Rooms with the lightening…" Natalya murmured quietly before switching back to Russian.

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to listen and piece together what she was saying from his learned Russian. The Asylum. A man. He took her somewhere. A room. A dark room. Needles. And… Over and over again. She spoke two words. Two numbers… Forty Three. Those two numbers rolled off her tongue.

It hurt him, deep down, it killed him. Alfred didn't know how to help. All he could do was watch as the last pieces of the woman that he loved fell apart. Natalya had been working so hard all of her life, trying to pull herself back together. But one couldn't make a whole picture if you were missing half of the pieces. Not only were her pieces missing, but also shattered and fragmented until they were unrecognizable, and there was absolutely no way he could help.

Natalya couldn't be put back together.

"Everything put together falls apart…" She mumbled in between the incomprehensible Russian. Her eyes swirled and he leaned in to gaze into them, looking for something. But he didn't find it. There was no love, not even a hint of sanity left. Just a hollow shell.

And he broke again.

"You're right!" He shouted, pushing away from her, "Everything falls apart! But some things are just made that way." Alfred glared down at her, his rage misplaced but very real, "You're broken, Natalya, and no one can ever help you, no matter how much they love you."

Natalya watched him, her hollow eyes wide as she listened. His words made very little sense when they came from his mouth and it took her a moment to piece them into something that she could understand. Broken… Some things were just made to be broken. Like dolls.

But Alfred had never shouted at her. Never raised his voice. Once he had screamed in terror as a clumsy little Natalya toppled down the stairs, his cry mingling with hers. But that was years ago and the only time she had heard voice be anything but kind.

But… That was the other one.

"You just broken! You'll never be put together until…" Alfred wanted to be able to finish that sentence. Until she… let him help her. But he couldn't do that anymore. He saw it in her tear brimmed eyes. It was too late. He sighed, stepping forward and leaning down to her level.

"You can cry… or you can lie." Alfred swallowed, but the venom in his voice was not missed, "For all the good it'll do you… or me.. you can _die_."

Natalya flinched as he spoke the last word.

"But when you're done, I won't come. I won't come back for you. They'll come and lay you down for dead, giving up. But I won't come… Just remember what I said." He closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "Goodbye, Natalya.."

Alfred ran his hand through her silky hair one last time before pulling away. He turned and took the few paces that it was to the door, his footsteps as silent as a dead man's. Alfred wasn't dead, but he had given up. On her. On love. He didn't look behind him as he pulled her door closed softly.

A strangled cry came from Natalya as the tears streaked down her face. Her body felt like it was freezing, but not slowly. A flash freeze where all of your cells erupted at once as the water expanded into ice crystals that filled your veins. The tears rolled down to her chin and she wondered vaguely how she could cry. If her body was frozen, how were there still tears?

Tears.

Alfred had made her cry. He'd said all of those things and… Her head whipped around to the door and she saw that it was closed. He'd gone… When had he gone? It could have been seconds or minutes or even hours and Natalya wouldn't have been able to tell you.

All she knew was what he had said to her. Those last words rang in her mind like a final symphony. The orchestra was silenced and the people cheered, standing as they watched her take her the last bow. The curtains closed, but the notes still hung in the air.

"_You can cry…"_

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"_Or you can lie."_

No. She didn't need another pill. She didn't.

"_For all the good it'll do you…"_

Natalya's feet touched the floor as she swung her legs over and stood carefully.

"_Or me.."_

She glided over to her dresser, gazing upon her pill bottle before picking it up.

"_You can die."_

The bottle opened and three large pills fell into her palm.

"_But when you're done…"_

One, two, three pills hit her tongue and she swallowed them dry.

"_I won't come."_

Then her gaze fell back on the bottle.

"_I won't come back for you."_

Her lips parted as her hand lifted, bring the bottle closer to her mouth.

"_They'll come and lay you down for dead, giving up."_

Pills fell into her mouth as she reached for her water glass.

"_But I won't come…"_

She swallowed.

"_Just remember what I said."_

Natalya lay on the bed, the empty bottle dropping to the floor.

"_Goodbye, Natalya."_

She closed her eyes, relaxing for the first time in her life, "Goodbye, Alfred…"

* * *

**((A/N)): Last chapter up next. Don't PM me asking me how it's going to end, please. _Do_ PM me telling me how much you like it though! Thank you guys again! ^^**


	7. Remember what I said

**((A/N)): HEY! So I'm back. Sorry for the long absence, but here's the chapter. And I was wrong before. _This_ is the last chapter. Next one is going to be a short epilogue. I meant for it to be this one, but I wanted to tie up a few more loose ends.**

**But so many thanks yous to anyone still reading! I love you guys... Thank you and sorry.**

**[WARNINGS]: Pretty much the same. Horribleness, awfulness, terribleness. And harsh language. But you guys have toughed it out so far, so I think it's fine.**

* * *

_Oooh. Just remember what I said._

**X~X~X**

Alfred walked down the staircase slowly, completely numb. His brain had begun to shut down, not letting him feel or process a thing. Yes, he knew Natalya was broken and he could still hear his own words ringing in his ears. Horrible words. But that knowledge didn't mean a thing to him.

The only woman he'd ever loved. The only woman he ever would. He'd let her go, not turning back. She still sat up in her bedroom, hurt and drowning in her own senseless ramblings and thoughts. But he would not return. The one time he actually opened himself up…

Although his brain had ceased most of his internal thoughts, his body continued to move, guiding him through the house that his broken beauty lived in. His palms sweated as his heart raced, the adrenaline flowing through his veins even as his brain blanked out. Had Alfred been able to muster any sort of emotion whatsoever, he might have felt surprise when his feet didn't take him to the bedroom Katya had prepared for him. Instead they landed him just outside a different one.

Without a thought in the world, Alfred twisted the door knob and stared blankly at the two blondes lying causally on the bed. Arthur blinked up at Alfred, confused, as Francis's eyes widened.

"I.." Alfred's voice was thick, strangled as his chest constricted, "… shouldn't have done that."

Francis was the one who finally spoke after a moment of palatable silence, "Done what?"

"… I t-told a suicidal woman to kill herself."

**X~X~X**

A breath.

No, that did not do it justice.

A gasp filled her lungs as her eyes shot open and every muscle in her body contracted and spasmed as a string of Russian swears fell from her lips. Natalya was in a cold sweat, a thick needle still in chest before it was pulled out and a piece of gauze was applied to the spot. Still gasping, she tried to move away, feeling the adrenalin that had been shot into her heart now coursing through her veins, but firm hands kept her on the bed.

"Al-Alfred?!" She gasped, looking up but not seeing.

"Nyet." The voice came, the monosyllabic answer in Russian.

"… Vanya..?" But no, the voice was much too high. Natalya's eyes finally focused, her gaze filling with the image of her older sister. The woman's stern blue eyes bored into her as she held Natalya's shoulder down with one hand, the other pressing the gauze back on her chest.

"Katya.." Natalya whispered as her sister looked away.

Katya's jaw was hard. Beside her on the floor were multiple kits. A stomach pump, used on Natalya to rid her of the toxic pills, and packaging from the needle filled with adrenaline. She was quiet for a moment before speaking, "This is the fourth time I've done this, Natalya. Will it be the last time?"

As the words sunk in, Natalya swallowed, hearing the pain and worry in her older sister's voice that was masked by anger, ".. N-No."

A scowl flickered across the normally good-natured woman's face and Katya looked up at her. "You do not tell your brother. He has other things to deal with right now. If he does not get the Englishman to sign this deal, our company will fall."

Natalya nodded— her muscles relaxing slightly and her brain still sluggish to a certain extent. "Of course. Vanya need not know."

Katya held her gaze steadily before nodding and pulling away from her, letting Natalya hold to gauze to her chest. "And if I see that American around your room again…" The threat didn't need finishing. Though Ivan would do anything for his sisters, their wellbeing his whole world, Katya valued her name above most else.

Braginski. She was a Braginski and Natalya was not. If this Arlovskaya, the name itself a sigma, were to tarnish the Braginski name, Katya would see to it that Ivan never let Natalya in their home again.

**X~X~X**

Had someone asked Ivan what was going through his mind, he couldn't have explained it. He might go on an hour long ramble about family, business, and how notoriously difficult it was to balance them, but it would not have explained his thoughts. It wouldn't even come close.

The ideas were so mangled together, like a nest filled with so many facts and fictions about his sister and everything that you couldn't even tell what was true anymore. One moment he was contemplating going up to her and holding her for hours until his good will wished the illness out of her and then the next he was going through everything he needed in order to sign his company over to BP.

Was he a good brother? Was he even a good person? Ivan didn't know anymore.

Sighing, he sat back in his chair looking around the room he called an office, the dark drapes and blue walls setting the mood for the entire place, before his eyes flicked back down to the papers on the desk in front of him. On top of the stacks were the multiple papers he'd signed. They only awaited Arthur and Alfred's signature. As soon as the two signed, BP would have complete control over the Braginski oil rigs, leaving Ivan with none of the profits there on out, but also avoiding bankruptcy.

He dropped the paper back on the desk, kneading his temples as he tried to think. He'd not told either of his sisters about his plan for their family business. Katya would be furious and Natalya… Ivan swallowed and picked up the papers that would either assure their future or condemn it.

What was he doing?

The Russian frowned, looking at the papers underneath the contract. They were scattered about in an organized chaos, one he'd created, expect for a few near the corner of his desk. Ivan leaned over, looking down and closing a half open empty drawer. Odd. He hadn't opened it and he was sure that there had been papers in it the last time he'd checked. Still confused, he reached over and grabbed the pile of papers on his desk that must have come from the empty drawer.

Ivan flipped through the papers, not recognizing the first few bearing his late father's signature but soon coming the last three that bore his own. His eyes widened as he read through them, his fingers trembling slightly.

_Release form for Markov's Sanitarium_

_Dr. Dmitri Petrovich_

_Patient: Natalya Arlovskaya_

Ivan stopped reading this form, knowing he'd signed it to get his little sister out of that terrifying place. Instead, he turned back to the forms with their father's signature on it and read it in depth. It was an admission form—the original one which his father had signed, committing his little girl of nine years to an asylum. Ivan felt sick as he gazed down at the man's large black signature.

_Nikolai Braginski._

Shaking his head and flipped through the papers back to the release form, he tried to find some relief in the fact that, eventually, he'd saved his little sister from the horror. But as he read through the text, it only reminded him of what he'd done to save her. Of what he'd agreed to.

_Forced withdrawal…Remanded to the custody of brother… Patient uncured even with extensive treatment… Never fit for general public… Damaged beyond repair…_

His hands began shaking as he swallowed and read again the conditions of her release. Ivan had been forced to agree to this. It had been the only way to get her out and he would sign it a thousand more times if it meant that she would never go back. But it didn't mean that. It meant the opposite.

_Should the patient still suffer from delusions, be harmful to themself or others, or any other side effects not conducive to normal behavior such as time loss, memory alteration, or an increasingly solitary attitude and a decreasing in audible response this shall be cause for reinstitutionalization._

He was a bad brother and a bad person; his sister would be taken away again because of this. But no. He'd hidden her and the fact that she was still ill for nearly 7 years now. He would not let anyone take her away. He would hide her still.

**X~X~X**

"Natalya."

Natalya blinked, looking up from her lap and letting her eyes readjust from the closeness of her skirts to the distance of her sister's face. She must have sat in silence, her eyes downcast, for longer than she'd thought.

"Da?"

Katya let out a relieved sigh as she shook her head and sat back in the chair, relaxing slightly, "This is the fourth time I've called you."

Natalya did not seem fazed, only shrugging and looking back down at her lap as she studied the pattern for the millionth time.

"Natalya."

Again it took Katya more than five minutes to rouse the girl from her own thoughts.

"Da?"

Katya swallowed, "I've been thinking. And doing some.. reading. I believe.. you need help."

The younger woman's eyebrows knit together as her head tilted to the side, "Help? But Vanya helps. S-Sometimes when I do not behave…"

"Nyet! Do not start that again!" Katya growled angrily, shaking her head, "You stop that! Our brother is wonderful and would never lay a finger on you! It's all you, Natalya! You and your… mind. It's…" Fractured. Broken. "… different."

"Vanya once said that he was different."

Katya stared at her, a scowl marring her pretty features, "Your brother is.. different in another way. He hides his differences from the world. That's a good thing. But you… seem incapable of hiding anything."

Natalya's eyebrows knit together to form an express much similar to a young child's. A memory stirred in her mind of that American's voice.

_Hide? No. You shouldn't. Who are you hiding from..?_

Natalya swallowed, "You… You shouldn't hide. No one should hide."

"Our brother has been hiding you," Katya spoke coolly, her expression unreadable.

The youngest sister said nothing, her eyes turning down to her skirt again. Her mind was a million miles away as Katya sighed and shook her head.

"I've been doing some reading," Katya said again, eliciting no reaction from Natalya as she continued to speak, "Delusions… You keep.. seeing things. Cutting and abusing yourself. You lose weeks at a time. You… You keep thinking that he's hurting you. You're convinced that Ivan is the one… but.."

Natalya didn't say a thing. She didn't hear a thing.

Katya sighed, shaking her head as she stood up, "You're not even listening." As she walked out, she looked over her shoulder, hoping to see that Natalya had acknowledged the move in some way. But her sister remained in the motionless and Katya closed the door behind her, muttering quietly, "… Ivan can't hide you forever."

**X~X~X**

Alfred took a deep breath, hearing but not listening to the talk that surrounded him, swirling about in the chaos of his mistake. An angry thick English voice shouted curses and insults at him as soft French accented words were spoken to calm both of them. But Alfred didn't care. And he didn't listen.

"Do you have any idea how bad you screwed us?!" Arthur shouted, growing red in the face as he towered over the American on the bed. "If word gets out that we can't close this deal because you couldn't keep your goddamn mouth shut and that thing in your pants, we will lose all of Asia, not to mention Eastern Europe!"

"Mon amour… Calm yourself. You are shouting."

Arthur shoved the Frenchman off of him, "No! No. Alfred…" His voice turned cold as he glared down at Alfred, danger glowing in his green eyes, "If we don't close this deal and you don't keep your fucking mouth shut, you're fired!"

Alfred swallowed, knowing what he meant by that. Not only would he be fired, he'd be blacklisted from the business world. Completely unhirable. Alfred looked away as Arthur huffed and straightened up.

"Well…" The Englishman sighed, still harsh in his tone and features, "For your sake, you'd better hope that Braginski doesn't give a fuck about his sister."

**X~X~X**

Hours later, as Katya descended the stairs, she let out a shaky controlled breath. When she'd left her sister for a second time, having been up there to check on her, Natalya had barely noticed. She'd still been talking to herself about nonsense. Most of it was either in garbled Russian or Belorussian—what the doctors had spoken in the asylum. Katya shook her head, going into the kitchen as she rolled up her sleeves. "She's fine," she spoke blandly to the man seated at the table before turning her back and pouring herself some tea.

Ivan nodded, sipping at his own tea as Katya sat down across the table from him. "Was anything wrong?"

"Nyet," Katya lied quickly, no shame or hint of deception in her voice that might rouse suspicion.

Ivan nodded again, contemplating his tea while Katya spoke, "Where is the Englishman? Have you talked to him about expanding our oilrigs yet?"

Ivan sighed and shook his head as he set down his tea, "I… I have not."

Katya frowned, "When do you plan on speaking to him?"

"The deal has been signed, sestra."

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she looked up at him, "Oh. Good. I would prefer these men to be out of our home and on the next plane to London."

Not saying a word as she sipped her tea and looked up at him, Ivan swallowed and spoke only after some thought, "They will be. And they will be taking our company with them. It is what is best for us."

Katya froze, her body stiffening as she slowly looked up at him, rage behind her dark blue eyes. "What?"

"I'm selling the company," he tried to explain calmly. "We will receive a flat amount for the sale—"

"But none of the profits! Nothing after the initial sale!" Katya slammed her teacup back into its saucer as she glared at her younger brother, anger flooding her veins. "You're… What have you done? Selling this company to that… horrible Brit! How could…?" her eyes widened as she trailed off and her brother swallowed uncomfortably. "You did this for her, didn't you?"

Ivan looked away, his jaw hard.

"You stupid motherfuc—"

"Enough!" Ivan stood, glaring down at her, "I did this to help her! With all this work, she's not getting what she needs!"

"She needs to be put down!"

Ivan's eyes went wide as he slammed his fist down on the table, "Katya! She is your sister too! And our father left me in charge of this company and this family. Selling it is my choice and what is best for us. End of discussion." With that, he exited the room, leaving behind a steaming, livid woman.

Katya took a deep breath but it only proved to enrage her further. Gritting her teeth, she picked up her tea cup and threw it against the wall with all her strength, shattering it into unrecognizable pieces. Breathing heavy, she stared down at the pieces and muffled a shriek of fury. He was selling the company to help a broken invalid?! He was destroying her life to fix something broken beyond repair? No. He would have better luck trying to piece together that teacup. Ivan was sacrificing everything that was not his to give away and to a lost cause.

Katya stood, feeling her rage subside slightly only to be replaced by cold calculating planning. Crossing the room, she picked up the phone. No, this was not something she could let happen. Katya would not let an Arlovskaya ruin the Braginski name. Never. As a dial tone rang out, she bit her lip and made a decision, dialing the number she'd memorized over and over again through the years.

She was done letting Ivan hide her.

**X~X~X**

Dust motes spun around the room, swirling in the soft light as she watched from stiff white sheets, only an observer. She could affect, but never touch. A small pout formed on her lips as her breath mingled with the air and pushed the dust further away from her. But those motes were soon replaced by more which were in turn pushed away. And so the cycle continued.

That was the nature of her life. Every time something was pushed away, something else was there to replace it. But… What happened when she was all out of things? Dust was plentiful, but she seemed to be running out. Running out of time. Running out of thoughts.

Natalya straightened her back, looking away from the dust for the first time in hours, and saw that her sister was no longer with her. One more thing pushed away. If it had been a few weeks ago, Natalya would have made a game of it—counting things that ran away from her—but now she could barely remember what a game was. Sliding her legs off the bed, she stood with a bit of a struggle and narrowed her eyes as she scanned the room. It was so familiar; a place she'd lived in for fifteen years of her life, but even that was fading.

Everything was fading. Everything was falling apart.

A small sound of panic escaped her lips as her face screwed up in pain, but soon even that was gone. Her mind was breaking apart, ripping at the seams and her memories were falling through the cracks. Days from her past disappeared in chunks, good and bad parts alike.

Though it was only moment ago, Natalya had no memory of how she'd come to sit at her desk, pen in hand as a single sheet of white paper lay on one side of the dark wood, a spilled bottle of pills on the other. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at the pure, unscathed white. Swallowing and feeling the taste of newly ingested pills in her mouth, she watched helplessly as her pen met the paper, staining it an ugly black.

Words flowed from her pen as her hand moved, writing down every thought and memory she still retained. Though they were few, ink soon filled the paper and there was more black than white. Tears fell from her cheeks onto the paper, smudging the ink and causing it to run. But her hand didn't stop. It wrote down everything.

And the paper was full.

A noise, a crashing sound, echoed through the house, but Natalya didn't look up from her pen and paper. Minutes later there was another crash, this time much closer, but Natalya didn't moved even as her door was broken down and three men flocked into her room.

She didn't move, but her hand did. Just before those three men reached her, Natalya wrote down six more words at the very bottom of the paper.

_I'm going back to the rooms._

And then the men held her, their hands bruising her already fragile arms and their fingers digging in skin as they dragged her away. Natalya screamed.

**X~X~X**

As the first loud crash reverberated through his house, Ivan's body stiffened and he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins. His brain flew through thoughts before he leapt up from his desk, the chair toppling backwards along with stacks upon stacks of papers. The front door.

The papers scattered to the floor but he was already dashing from the room, the door swinging open behind him. Ivan's eyes widened and his heart sped up with panic as four men stood in the foyer of his home. He heard a few whispered words, but did not bother to deceive the Belorussian he'd never been good with.

Ivan sprinted downstairs, surveying the men quickly. Three in all black and one in a white coat. His breathing was ragged as he tried to imagine why these men would break down their door, but he was wrenched out of his thoughts and stopped short as a woman stepped in front of the four men.

"I'm so sorry to trouble all of you… but I don't think we can help you," Katya simpered, watching her younger brother out of the corner of her eye.

"No trouble at all," the man in the white coat responded courteously, his accent mild but noticeable. "I was just looking for the head of the household…" He trailed off, smiling up at Ivan and stepping forward, "You must be he. Ivan Braginski?"

His throat dry as he swallowed, Ivan nodded and struggled to exude that esteem the Braginski's upheld. "That is I."

"Excellent. I am Dr. Dmitri Petrovich."

Ivan's face took on pallor. That name. No.. It couldn't be.

"And you are the legal guardian of Natalya…" Dmitri glanced down at a folder he was carrying, "… Arlovskaya?"

"Braginski," Ivan insisted, knowing that it wouldn't matter.

The doctor chuckled, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, "I believe that legally her second name is Arlovskaya. And the law is important to uphold." His eyes grew hard with the authority his white coat gave him, "That is why we are here. The law is in clear violation here."

Ivan stood still as the doctor walked toward him, handing him a letter.

"The official remand of Natalya Arlovskaya back to Markov's Sanitarium," Dmitri stated as Ivan ripped the letter open, reading frantically.

"N-No! No… There must be some mistake," Ivan protested, looking up at the men in a panic. "My sister is doing much better! She's no harm to anyone! She doesn't need to go back."

"There is no mistake," Dmitri spoke calmly, nodding to the three men behind him. The men in black, nurses whose job was only to restrain patients, moved past Ivan and walked up the stairs quickly. "She needs to be institutionalized."

"No!" Ivan shouted, running his hand through his hair as he tried frantically to find some sort of loop hole— anything to make sure that his sister was safe. Because… there was no way that she would survive that again. "No! You can't take her… Please…" Ivan broke down, pleading with the doctor as he heard a crash from upstairs as Natalya's door was broken down and a scream a moment later.

The three nurses reappeared, dragging a kicking and screaming Natalya down the stairs. She shouted curses, flailing about as they gripped her harder and her cries turned into pain. Her violet eyes watered as they searched and found Ivan. "Vanya!" Natalya cried—her voice as broken and desperate as she was.

Then something in him snapped, just the same as when he'd punched Alfred into a pulp. A growl of pure protective instinct built and exploded from his throat as he lunged toward them, pulling off one of the men and throwing him down the stairs. The man grunted, struggling to move, but grabbed Ivan's leg just as he was moving back toward the other two nurses and his sister.

"Vanya!" Natalya shouted again, trying to push away from the men, one of whom clamped a tight hand over her mouth, effectively suppressing her screams. The other nurse pulled a suringe out of seemingly nowhere and injected it into the struggling girl's neck. Her eyes went wide for a moment as her actions slowed, becoming more labored, but soon drooped. Natalya went limp in their arms and the men picked her up with more ease.

"Natasha!" Ivan growled in pain as the man pulled him to the floor with him. See his little sister's limp body being carried away only fueled his anger and he tossed off the man, not caring where he landed. By the time Ivan was one his feet again, the two men still cradling her and Dmitri were nearly out the door. "NO!"

His muscles tensed to sprint, but something stopped him. A firm hand on his shoulder.

"Let it go, brother…"

Ivan's eyes widened in shock as he turned, looking at his older sister. "What..? Katya, she's family. She's a.."

"Arlovskaya."

His lips parted and the door slammed, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman, her hand still on his shoulder to stop him, "You. It was… you."

**X~X~X**

There was commotion outside their door, but the three businessmen hardly paid attention. While Alfred stared off into space, trying to keep his mind off of anything and everything, Francis watched Arthur as the Englishman intently scrutinized the paperwork they'd all signed earlier that day.

"Well… It appears that your job is secure, Alfred. For now," Arthur stated, rifling through the papers as they heard Ivan shouting from another room of the house.

Francis cleared his throat, growing anxious as he stood from the bed and crossed over to the desk where Arthur sat, "Uhh… Mon lapin en sucre? Perhaps we should be going now? The Braginskis seem to be dealing with something at the moment."

"Arlovskaya.." Alfred mumbled under his breath, failing in his attempt to keep his mind off of the family.

"… Either way. I think it best that we leave."

Arthur sighed heavily, taking his time placing all the papers in order again before making sure they were even, "Very well. Naturally, you are correct in the worse way possible. But I still agree." Standing up, Arthur chuckled and grabbed his briefcase as Francis opened the door for him. "Good work, men! This deal went through with everyone's reputations intact. Excellent. Much better than Munich! Didn't you get the Vice president pregnant, Francis?"

The Frenchman chuckled, letting Alfred pass through the doorway as well before walking through it himself and letting it close as they headed down the hallway as a group, "Oui. She was very loose and… a little too intrigued by my accent."

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled lightly, "Trust me, pet. All of us have been there."

As the three men wandered through the halls, there was little talk. They were all listening to words that they couldn't quite hear, but the voices sounded like Braginski and his sister. What they were discussing was unclear, but heated. Then Ivan's voice boomed through the atrium just as the three entered.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY?!"

The Russian man was shaking with fury, his back to the three, as Katya shrunk away from him, her eyes dry but full of regret. "I didn't know what would happen! Please.. Vanya, you have to—"

"Don't." Ivan's voice was harsh, sharp like glass, as his body stiffened and he spoke with absolute disgust, "Don't call me that. That was her name for me and now… she's gone. Gone because of you!"

Arthur shook his head, a look of disinterest on his face as he stepped closer to the busted open front door, giving the two Russians a wide birth, "Well… I hate to break up the touching family moment. But the documents are signed and I must return to London. I have to decide where exactly to put the new British Petroleum sign. You know, after we tear yours down."

Katya's ashamed expression turned to outrage immediately as she gritted her teeth to keep herself calm. Arthur watched her, slightly amused by the display and waited. Two, three. Just three seconds it took for that amused smirk to ignite the powder keg of fury inside of her.

As Katya screamed at Arthur in an odd mixture of Russian and English, Alfred's eyes were fixed upon Ivan. His back was no longer turned to them and so the American could see what he'd been trying to hide. Pain, sorrow, and lament were creased in the lines of his face as he crumpled.

Alfred's lips parted in shock as he stepped forward, feeling a knot in his stomach. "You said…?" He whispered to the Russian in a low voice that only he could hear, "Sh-She's gone..?"

Ivan looked up at him, shattered mirrors in his eyes, and nodded numbly, "My sister. She's… gone. She's gone from us."

His face paled as the knot in his stomach tightened. Gone. No… No. He couldn't mean that… No. Not Natalya. She couldn't be… gone.

_For all the good it'll do you, or me, you can die._

"No!" Alfred shouted, startling the other four, and sprinted up the stairs, letting his feet guide him to the room where she should be. Where she had to be. His long fingers reached out, touching the splintered wood of her broken door. She had to be.

But as the door swung open, creaking in protest, a vacant breeze blew across him. No body lay in the bed, however absent their mind might be, and no one sat the desk, doling out volatile pills. Alfred walked over to the desk slowly, his hands shaking as he reached over and picked up an empty pill bottle.

Gone. She was gone. And it was his fault.

_You can die._

Entirely his fault.

_I told a suicidal woman to kill herself._

A growl of fury riddled with guilt ripped through his throat as he threw the bottle against the wall. The plastic bounced off the plaster harmlessly, only proving to infuriate him further. Alfred shouted out wordlessly, the gut-wrenching sound echoing through the room, and grabbed a half full bottle before chucking at the wall. Pills flew around the room, cascading about the desk and landing upon a single sheet of paper.

Breathing heavy, Alfred glanced down at the pills and his eyes locked on the scribbled words. He snatched up the paper and his eyes scanned the page carefully. Tears welled up in those cerulean orbs as his body trembled.

Cyrillic. It was all in Cyrillic. From the top, swirled around in nonsense structure, to the bottom. It covered the entire page in scribbled writing. It was full.

He couldn't even read her last words. Her dying words. Alfred choked and set the paper down carefully before tearing out of the room. He couldn't be in there any longer; he felt like the walls were closing in and crushing him. Gasping for air as soon as he surfaced on the other side, he looked around in bewilderment. What was he to do now?

Live. Just keep living. Never again would he stray from the path Arthur had set up for him. Never would he dabble in anything more than a few girls' undergarments. Never love.

As Alfred stumbled down the stairs, his face as pale a dead man's, he pushed down the horrible feeling in his gut. He straightened up once he'd joined the other two men. Arthur looked up at him, evidently bored with tormenting Katya.

"Ready to go?" The Englishman asked, not knowing what his question fully entailed.

Alfred winced slightly, glancing over at Ivan for a moment. _Gone._ She was gone. Dead by her own hand, though Alfred had been the one to guide that hand. What was there left?

"Y-Yeah…" Alfred mumbled, ducking his head as he grabbed his suitcase from Francis, "I'm done here."

* * *

**((A/N)): ... Please don't hate me. And I'll try to get the epilogue up soon. Thanks again to all my faithful followers.**


	8. Room with the Lightening

**((A/N)): That's right! I did it. I updated in a reasonable time frame. I'm pretty amazed.**

**This is the epilogue so it's very short and the every last chapter. This has been amazing and incredible. I'm so glad you guys are still reading and have stuck with it. I love you all so much and thank you so much for all the support.**

**If anyone has any requests for a story they would like written, please ask. I love requests.**

**But I'll stop rambling now! Thank you! Thank you so much.**

* * *

_Room with the lightening._

* * *

She smiled peacefully, lying back on the grass and feeling the biting chill of the winter air as she gazed upon the heavens. Stars and planets that made up galaxies all swirled in her violet irises. As she breathed in, she inhaled the world, and as she breathed out, she exhaled life.

Natalya felt a hand take hers and tore her eyes away from the stars to look over to her right. A young boy lay next to her, the golden hair pushed back away from his live eyes as he grinned in a way that only he could.

Together they lay in the vast fields of Russia, contemplating their lives as they looked up at something greater than them. Finally the boy spoke, his voice laced with an American accent that had never been there before.

"You have to go back."

Natalya only nodded, squeezing his hand tightly as she counted the constellations, "Will you come with me?"

"Always," Alfred replied as his blue eyes found her. "Thank you for finding me. I was so lost."

"I-I.." Guilt made her voice tremble and she bit her lip, pleading with him, "I left you there. In that room… I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, laughing under his breath good-naturedly, "But you came back. You found me."

"They took me back to the room," Natalya whispered, closing her eyes as more voices spoke beyond their nocturnal idyll. "I found you again and… You'll stay? You'll stay with me?" Desperation clung to her voice as the others increased in volume.

As Natalya squeezed her eyes shut tighter, Alfred leaned over and kissed her forehead softly, "Yes. I'm staying. I'll never leave you again."

Natalya nodded, swallowing thickly as she opened her eyes. The winter fields of Russia were gone, replaced but the dingy walls of that asylum. Her head jerked up as she sat up, hearing the voices of the men in white coats.

"Arlovskaya! Room 5."

Fear coursed through her veins, but someone reached out a hand to hers, gripping it reassuringly. Her scared eyes flicked over to see Alfred. Her body relaxed slightly as he grinned at her.

"_See? I told you I'd be here."_

"Always?" She asked hopefully, holding her childhood friend's hand tightly.

"_Always."_

* * *

**((A/N)): Kind of bitter sweet? Yes, she is back in that place. But she has Alfred (original Alfred) back. So things are a little better?  
**


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